Music Through Your Veins
by ImaginedInsanity
Summary: Blaine is happy. Or at least he thinks he is. But he keeps dreaming about the new transfer student. There's something so hypnotic in the way he plays piano. And something so mysterious about his family. Vampire fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is something I started working on about five years ago. I had the idea, then Twilight came out and everyone was all vampire mad and my idea felt crap. (Especially because I hate Twilight :P ) But I feel like giving this the reception it deserves because there was a time I worked quite hard on this. It's VERY AU- please don't expect a lot of similarities with Glee. I hope I can pull this story off well; it's quite adventurous for me plot-wise, so we'll just keep our fingers crossed! If you see any typos please let me know especially in the first few chapters in which Blaine was originally a girl :P I don't write with a beta so it might escape my notice that Blaine is a 'she' or something :P **

**Hope you like this, guys! I'm quite excited for it!**

***And for the NPLH'ers thank you for following me over, and I will do some one-shots from that verse later on when I get the urge :D**

**Thank you! Feedback would be lovely!**

* * *

><p>How poetic are dead flowers?<p>

They are born, bloom into radiance, live out their lives in the beautiful sunshine, and they are cut from life; placed into vases and commented on until they shrivel up. Brown, dead memories of life and vibrancy. Why does life have to continue in this methodical fashion? Why does life and vibrancy always end in the constriction and deterioration of life? Why do I, even now, feel this power called time pressing in on me? Calling me to the brown, shrivelled masses?

I need to escape. I need my life back. I need to enjoy every moment and savour the sweetness of breathing, smiling, wanting. I want life to love me again. Then maybe I could fall back in love with life. Should it be any sweeter in death?

As I look down the road, sighing as the dust settled in the wake of the truck that has just driven past; I realize how dead and dusty my life has truly become. The dust is like my life to this point; dry and unsettling. This is what this trip is about. It is a search for life – my life.

I drop the dried up roses I held in my hand and stride over them as I begin the steps to change my life forever. I think twice. I walk back to the shrivelled deadness and pluck one stem from its fellows. This I would take with me. A reminder of what is at stake. Of what I can never return to. I step on the bouquet of death and a single petal flies away in the hot wind; lost forever from the world it had loved and choosing its final resting place.

He told me that this was a phase, that my life had already begun and was in full flight and I was in fact throwing it all away if I went through with this. That was my problem. I had no personality besides that which others placed on me. In certain situations with certain people I may come across as the life of the party, while with others I may cease to exist in any form besides that which they instructed. I was irresponsible and had little will to become otherwise. I had never had a chance to be independent with my family treating me as the perfect son. I was sick of the good grades, the feeling of guilt if I went out with friends, the feeling of guilt in general actually. My family would never understand that I liked boys. Well. One more than all the rest. But I was tired of covering up. I was tired of my closet. I had decided to break free of the restrictions that had been placed on me and allow my inner self to break free and make my mark on the world: whoever I may turn out to be.

Reaching eighteen was nearing and I had been scared into action. I had booked myself a ticket on the next bus to leave Ohio. It would always be a special place for me, but I had to find out who I was meant to be. And somehow I doubted that my destiny lay here. I wasn't going to let myself share fate with the shrivelled flora at my feet.

I can hear a vague noise in the distance. It rumbles closer.

Closer.

I can see the dust clouds forming in the distance. A well-marked sign of arrival. Now is my moment. Today is the start of Blaine Anderson's new life.

The air feels dry in my mouth. I can't seem to get moisture back on my tongue. Am I really going to be able to do this? To get on this bus and leave forever? It has just begun to hit me. This is what I would be leaving behind. My dear, annoying mother. My stern, uncomprehending father. And him.

I can't believe I might not see him again. That this desiccated stem and petals may be our last memory. I suddenly have the urge to run. I don't know where to. Somewhere that feels like home. But home isn't here for me anymore. He is my home. But I can't live there. He wouldn't want me to.

He wouldn't want me to leave. He wouldn't want me to stay. He wouldn't want me at all. And I can't blame him. The familiar feeling of guilt is beginning to retch in my throat. I made him the guilty party. I gave him an ultimatum he couldn't make. I lost him anyway. I pushed too hard. I wanted too much.

I told him.

So now the bus is rumbling closer. It offers the release I've been seeking. Do I take it? Am I strong enough? Am I good enough?

He was light and dark. Breathing in and breathing out. Food, warmth, shelter and love, he was life itself. And now he knew what he meant to me. Now he understood. And now I did too. Now I could barely breathe from the thought of having lost him. Now my life felt like the sweet-smelling bouquet of death that now lay abandoned on the ground. Perhaps my deathly version of life could smell just as sweet. Perhaps I could still be treasured. But never again could I feel alive. Never again could I bloom in radiance at that smile meant just for me. Perhaps I was better as a memory.

The bus pulls to a stop. The front tire stops an inch from the flowers; an inch from the end of their displayed death; an inch from the end of a memory. I remember back a few weeks. Being handed those flowers was the happiest moment I can remember sharing with anyone; his smile now. The memory of it cut my heart to ribbons as I realized I would never see him smile at me like that again. I had ruined it; had ruined him; had ruined us. I suddenly realize I've been crying.

The doors on the bus swung open as the fat tears roll down my cheeks onto the hot, red dust.

I had two choices.

* * *

><p><strong>Short I know, but the next chapter will be up today :)<strong>

**Enough to hook you in?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here we go :D Let's get into the story :D**

**I WILL up the rating later. But for now there's no reason to. **

**Who can spot the vampire? :P**

* * *

><p>The day I turned seventeen I started to lose myself. It happened so slowly at first I barely knew it was happening. But on that day I lost any innocent naivety I had ever possessed. Turning seventeen meant that this would be the last year I would ever have at school with my friends. The last year I would have that wasn't adulthood. The last year I would have my collection of friends and family held intact.<p>

I was happier then; happier than I can imagine now. I had a collection of wonderful friends that I had known since we were born. I had my family behind everything I did. I felt supported. Not free, but then I've never wanted freedom. Not from happiness. There was always the niggling worry that I was _different_. I was _gay_. But even that was easy enough to hide with care.

I attended the local high school. I took classes; I had favourite teachers and subjects. I loved the music teacher Mr De Accord. He had taught me to play guitar and piano in the junior years, and now it was my best subject and my passion. Anyone who knew me at sixteen would have told you I was always singing. I was the 'happy' one.

I can't remember the day it started to become an act.

I was incredibly naïve. I had never put a foot wrong it seemed to everyone. I never fought with my parents or chased after girls (or boys for that matter) or went out without letting someone know where I was. I don't believe I hadn't ever lied until that year. I was not a typical teenager but I was happy in my fairytale childhood. I had the perfect life and it never occurred to me that there was anything missing.

Then I met him.

It was always fun meeting new people. He strolled into my life as calmly as he had walked into music class, and I would never be the same. His brown hair fell over his forehead in a styled way that hid his eyes. He seemed ordinary. I was the first person in the class and he was the second. What surprised me about him was the way he purposely chose the seat next to me. I wasn't annoyed. I was surprised and intrigued by this newcomer. I smiled and told him my name. He said hello and I thought I caught a hint of an accent that I couldn't pick. But that was the extent of the conversation. As the rest of the class filed in he said nothing more. All through the lesson he didn't make a sound. I was on the verge of thinking him the rudest person I had ever met when he turned to me, seconds before the bell rang and opened his mouth. "Sorry" he said and flicked his hair out of his eyes as he rose to leave. I almost gasped as my breath caught in my throat. Startlingly bright eyes smiled at me set in his impassively nervous face. I asked him why he was sorry but he turned his blue eyes downcast and walked away.

I thought I would think nothing more of it. In fact by dinnertime that evening I had put the encounter from my mind. I sat and ate with my family, joking with my younger brother, seriously discussing my day when my father asked his usual "Did you have a good day, Blaine?" winking at my mother under my hair as she mouthed the familiar words along with him. The family unit had always been my real life and nothing had changed at all tonight. I watched my brothers face crinkle as the ten year old tried to trick Dad into believing that the school had been closed. My mother shook her head and her curls moved too as she took tiny feminine bites of her meal. My father had long lost patience with my brother but his exasperation was merely the fuel for Scott's play, and by the time the meal was finished Dad was quite ready to retreat to his study and close the door, distancing himself from anything frivolous and the uncertainty of how to deal with the play that now came at his expense.

The interactions were so familiar and unchanging that any thoughts of the new boy had fled from my mind, a mere memory, nothing to be dwelled on.

But he was in my dream.

He appeared in a field of tiny blue flowers. He simply sat there and I watched him, hair covering his face as he plucked the petals from the flowers one by one. Amazingly he plucked the whole field of flowers. As he reached the last flower he flicked his hair back and he stared at me with those hypnotic hazel-blue eyes as he plucked every last petal. As he plucked the last one he closed his eyes and pain spread across his face. His eyes flew open as he screamed. They were black like coal, full of agony and something else. He stared at me and lifted his hand, still moaning and in pain. He curled his finger, beckoning me towards him. Through the pain, a strange grin came over his face.

I woke up panting.

* * *

><p>For the first time in my life I felt uneasy. Music class was first period and I was sure to see him. Why had he been in my dream? What kind of dream was that to have about someone I didn't know? Why had his eyes, after one brief glimpse burned an imprint on my retinas? Why could I not sit still today? I wasn't used to nightmares and the dark circles under my eyes were even uglier and more noticeable for their infrequency.<p>

A group of friends from my grade had slowly gathered around the picnic table we had unofficially claimed as ours all year. I passed casual banter with them, preoccupied with watching the front gate of the school. I stared as busload after busload of students walked through the gate, scanning the faces anxiously for a mess of dark hair of a pair of blue eyes. I didn't see him.

As the bell rang for first period I couldn't recognize the feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was a mix between relief and disappointment. I felt unsure of myself with him. How could someone who's name I didn't even know have such an impact? I was glad that I could concentrate on the music lesson today. We were going to be playing a new piece for an assessment task that was due in two weeks and I hadn't been listening properly yesterday when Mr De Accord had been explaining about the semi tonal differences in the bridge.

I was in class already when the bell rang, enjoying the chance to play on Mr D's piano at the front of the room. The room was filled with keyboards, but I always preferred the real thing to the tinny mechanical impersonation. I was playing one of my favourite pieces when Mr D walked in. He was quite used to seeing me there in the mornings, and even more used to seeing me at his piano, which we had jokingly christened Joanna the Piano. He gave a little chuckle to see me.

"Morning Blaine, what a surprise to see you here," he drawled sarcastically.

Mr D was almost everyone in the school's favourite teacher. Even if they had never taken a class with him, they favoured him. He had a likeable quality that everyone in the school appreciated. He was also the advisor for colleges, so he was especially familiar to my year. He was a different-looking man; pale with blonde hair and gold-brown eyes that always seemed a little bloodshot, as if he was always overtired. He never seemed to lack energy though. Every class, he was always vivacious and genuinely interested in teaching us. I think that was the difference between Mr D and the other teachers, other teachers had lost their passion for their subjects, but Mr D obviously loved music and was openly enthralled to be able to spend his time teaching us to love music too.

I reluctantly got up from the piano and headed towards my usual desk and waited for the other students to arrive as Mr D got his desk organized with papers and pens. He always began each lesson playing a song as we entered the class. Relaxed that the new boy was absent today I settled back, ready to listen to him play.

"How did you like the new kid?" Mr D asked from his seat at Joanna. He was very intuitive as far as teachers went, but he shocked me with his question this time. There was no way he could know I was gay. I had always been very careful and I'd never told anyone.

"He seemed kind of shy," I replied cautiously, careful to try to conceal my restless night of vivid dreams, "But nice enough I guess."

Mr D's fingers flew over a major chord and played a small melody that seemed to sneak into all his own compositions somewhere. He nodded and looked concerned at what I had said. "I know his family quite well, very old friends with his mother. We go way back." He gave a small grin at some memory or other, "I know she's very worried about him fitting in. They've just moved here from Ireland," So that was the accent I'd caught, "And he's been home-schooled apparently. But he seems like a nice kid."

"Seems?" I asked, "Didn't you say you knew his mother?" I was eager to piece together as much information as I could about the new arrival.

Mr D coughed and his nimble fingers missed a note, "Um, it's been a long time since I saw his family; I've never actually met him before."

"Oh okay," I replied, a little confused but starting to become aware of the extra students filling the room, and Mr D stopped playing as everyone took their seats. He quieted the class and the seat beside me remained empty for the ten minutes it took him to mark the roll. I began to relax and joke with the others, and willingly jumped up with a confidence I'd been lacking this morning when Mr D asked me to take the roll down to the office.

I happily closed the door behind me and the little blue folder and I began to make the daily trip. I thought I caught the sound of a piano being played expertly but I knew Mr D wouldn't be playing anything yet. There was no other music class during this period and I could hear the sound coming from the practice room near the stairs. It made me curious and although the route wasn't strictly on the way, I took the detour to discover who was playing such a beautiful song.

I peered in the window and caught a glimpse of some dark hair flying around as the player passionately caressed the keys. I leant against the door, hands at my eyes to block the glare on the glass, trying to work out who he was when the knob clicked loudly where the door hadn't been shut properly. Abruptly the music stopped and his head flew around quickly. Of course it was him. He looked at me with his eyes piercing, even through the smudged glass panel on the door. I simply looked at him for a while before coming to my senses and opening the door to speak to him.

"S-sorry," I stumbled over the word, "I just wanted to see who was playing. You're um, very good." I'd embarrassed myself thoroughly and I could feel myself getting hot. I cleared my throat to try to regain some measure of control over my voice.

"Are you coming to class? Because I'm taking the roll down to the office now if you want to get marked on?"

Why was I speaking at all? He just sat there and watched me make a fool out of myself with a small smile on his face. Well at least I hadn't offended him. He nodded and got up from the piano and we walked together back to the classroom for Mr D to sign him on. All he had said to me was that one small 'Sorry' yesterday and I wondered why he didn't speak. I considered the possibility that it must be exceptionally nerve-wracking to be in a school environment for the first time in your life and decided to begin the conversation myself.

"You play really well," I started which earned me a smile so I figured I was on safe enough ground. "How old were you when you started playing?" I thought this was an appropriate question as he would be forced to give a worded answer. He looked thoughtful and seemed to be pondering the answer. I wondered if all his family was as quiet and thinking as him or if he was an anomaly.

"I can't remember not playing piano," he finally said and this time I could definitely hear the intonation. But it seemed to be less strong than one would expect. It was clear on the words 'remember' and 'playing' but he seemed to have a more sophisticated accent than the Irish brogue I was expecting. The mix of his hair, eyes and accent were substantially puzzling as a whole. But he had answered my question which was clearly a start.

"Wow, no wonder you're good," I said, "I didn't start till I was about twelve." He smiled. But he didn't speak. I guessed he wasn't much of a conversation monger and became determined to keep him talking. It was frightening me how aware of him I was. I felt constantly on show. I'd been interested in boys in the past, but they were never this perfect. I would feel something for these boys because I was gay and they were male. I'd wanted to know what it felt like to kiss them, to hold them, but at the same time I'd never felt any kind of awareness of them. I noticed everything about _him_ all at once as we walked. He was right-handed, his pants were impeccably ironed with creases at the front, his front pocket was missing a button already, his front teeth were smaller than the average, he had a small scar on his neck, he breathed through his mouth and his neck was overly graceful as he turned to look at me.

I quickly realised that I had been merely staring rather than encouraging the conversation, "Um, so you're from Ireland?" He didn't seem to have found anything odd in my staring and merely nodded.

"Cool," I said.

Cool? I inwardly berated myself for being a moron and suddenly realised I didn't know his name.

"So, I'm Blaine." I waited expectantly to hear his name.

"I know," he said as we reached the classroom. I realised my stupidity that I could have checked the roll to find out his name, but I couldn't do that inconspicuously now. He turned the handle on the door and walked in and spoke in an apologetically low voice to Mr D. Mr D gestured for me to sit back down and gave the roll to the new boy to take to the office instead. I watched him walk out and struggled to pay attention to the writing on the whiteboard as Mr D talked. When he came back in, he chose the seat next to me again, gave a small smile, and started to take down from the board.

Could he honestly not feel the weird energy whenever we were that close? It was like a static electricity was flowing towards me on my right side. I peered at his handwriting and saw the ornate flowing script of days long gone. He formed his 'f's and 's's with swirls and twists. He caught me looking at his writing and I stumbled over my words again and said I couldn't read the board. He moved his chair closer to mine and pushed his book in my direction as he wrote. I could almost feel his breath blowing the electricity towards me. When the bell rang I actually checked my hair in the glass panels on the recording room, half expecting my curls to be standing on end. I turned around to pick up my bag and he was standing there holding it out to me.

"Thanks," I smiled. He held the door open for me on his way out and I turned around to invite him to sit with us at lunch, but he was gone. I looked around and saw him disappearing around the corner that we had walked together earlier. Curiosity overtook me and I began to follow him, not caring that I would be late for maths. I realised as I walked that he was headed back to the practice room. As I reached the door he was just sitting down at the piano ready to play. I knocked on the door and when he turned he didn't look surprised to see me.

"Free period?" I asked him, guessing the answer. He shook his head carelessly. "Can I listen?" I asked. He nodded and turned around, "Close the door please," he asked. He didn't sound annoyed or distracted, so I closed the door and took the armchair seat next to the practice piano. As soon as I sat the music began. His fingers were slow and purposeful, building a beautiful sad melody. As he played I could feel the electricity begin to pulse toward me again, and the heightened awareness began to block everything else from my mind.

I always got transported away listening to piano. There was something so vividly beautiful in the chords of the instrument that touched a place in my chest with gentle fingers. But this was transportation to a whole new place. I watched his hands begin to move faster as the music began to quicken. I could count the hairs on the back of his fingers, see the muscles in his arms at work beneath his skin, he was breathing through his mouth again and his pulse was throbbing at his pale throat under a light covering of stubble. The music climbed to its pinnacle and I could stand it no longer.

"What's your name?" I asked.

The music grew and his eyes were concentrating and close as he turned his head and stared at me. He played without looking at the keys and slowed the song.

The name came with the closing chord. He spoke, still not looking at the keys.

"Kurt."

"Kurt Hummel."

**Review, please? Is this any good at all?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go :D That plot keeps thickening!**

**Thank you to the people who have been kind enough to leave me review on this story! Very much appreciated! I think the readership is low because of the rating… Should I just up it now? I was saving it till there was actually mature content, but I think I'm losing my audience :P**

**Someone guessed the vampire! ;) **

I sat there an infinity listening to Kurt play. He swapped from one melody to the next with perfect transitions. It had passed like no time at all so that when the bell rang for morning tea break I was shocked. He smiled at me a little as I shook my watch and held it to my ear. He got up from the piano and opened the door.

"Shall we?" he asked holding it open.

I hurried to gather my school bag and folder and passed through the door.

"So do you have anyone to sit with now? You can come and sit with my group of friends if you like?"

Why did I do nothing but ask questions when he was around? He seemed pleased by the invitation and not as inclined to think me a moron as I was. He nodded and we set off down the stairs and out into the brilliant sunshine of the school courtyard.

It was a hot day for the time of year and it was a little too hot for my liking, sweating a little as we crossed the courtyard, headed for the table under the trees I had been sitting at that morning. I had never really liked the heat which was a cruel irony when I lived in Ohio where it was either raining or humid, but the heat just seemed sticky and uncomfortable and I found it hard to breathe properly and take proper satisfaction from the air when it was this hot. I looked across at Kurt and saw that he was already beginning to look red from the heat. His pale skin would be burnt to a crisp living here. I wondered what he would look like with a tan.

My friends had begun to gather on the grass and at the table where we were headed and waved as I got closer. I could see my best friend Maggie straining her neck to see who was with me. The unmistakeable signs of gossip were all there. There was whispering and Maggie quickly hushed Jess when she tried to question her. I peeked at Kurt again and he was wearing the same nervous expression he had worn when he had first apologised and disappeared.

I hadn't really seriously considered the possibility that he might be unsure and shy in this new environment. He seemed too sophisticated and unconcerned that he should be worried about the opinions of a few schoolgirls. He seemed so much older than he obviously was that it was ridiculous that seventeen year old opinions could harm him.

I glanced at him as we approached and shot him a tiny smile. "Hi guys, this is Kurt. He just moved here from Ireland." He looked almost green underneath the pinkish hue his skin had become, and as Maggie beckoned me to come sit with her (with the obvious intention of getting the gossip she could practically smell in the air) Logan took a seat next to Jess and Mark.

I shouldn't have worried about him. He took a few breaths and shook hands politely and then began interested conversation with them that impressed me thoroughly. I'd never heard him speak this much and it surprised me that I felt a little jealous that they could invoke this side of him.

He talked about his family, he had a younger sister the same age as my brother, and I learnt that they had been adopted when he was six. His birth parents had died in a car crash but he and his sister had escaped unhurt. His adopted father had just died and his mother had decided to move back to her home country, which was why he was here. He told the whole story with no emotion, as though time had desensitised him and he had tired of repeating this story. As he spoke, his hair fell over his eyes until he brushed it out of the way, exposing a shimmering glint of blue. Jess had started to get a gleam in her eye that I recognised well and I felt a stab of some unwelcome emotion at Kurt's laughter at something she said.

From my spot near Maggie I felt on the outer. I had met him first; formed the connection, surely I had to be the one to be his friend? It was my first experience of irrational jealousy and it overtook me with shocking authority.

* * *

><p>The irrationality only grew over the next few days. By some quirk in the timetable we had not had a history lesson since Kurt had arrived, and when I entered the classroom a little late after lunch on Wednesday, I found my usual seat next to Jess occupied by Kurt, the two of them laughing at something in the textbook. The fierce monster of irrationality roared and I tried to make a joke out of it.<p>

"Wow, you've only been here a few days and you're already stealing my seats!" I joked. He merely looked at me, as though judging my comment as stupidity rather than badly disguised envy.

I gave an embarrassed mutter and an attempt at a smile and took the seat in front, forgetting who else usually sat there. I heard Jess give a titter and whisper to Kurt as Talia entered the room and smiled at the sight of me there. I groaned inwardly. Talia was friendly, but she was a little overenthusiastic and I could only handle her in small doses. It was obvious she had a crush on me, and I had even encouraged her sometimes to try to keep up my cover. She was always finding ways to touch me and her laugh was always a little too enthusiastic; her eyes a little too wild. It was too late to change seats now so would have to put up with her constant babble for the next hour.

I could hear the constant stream of chuckles and whispers from the table behind me as I tried to keep up with Nazi Germany as well as Talia's troubles with her new job and her evil boss. I tried to focus on the class largely, yet the giggling coming from behind me irritated my very soul. I had music next lesson and I was becoming more and more cross with Kurt as he kept up his whispered conversation with Jess. It was irrational and sheer impulse but I wondered if I should sit apart from him in music. Was that slamming doors I didn't want closed? I couldn't fathom where this new irrationality had sprung from. It was as though I had gone through my first seventeen years with responsibility and duty and was now flung into the anarchy I had never known below the surface.

I was definitely angry with Jess. We were good friends; not especially close, but close enough to warrant anger in this situation. Jess was the kind of girl constantly surrounded by boys, and she seemed to enjoy the attention she received. I could assume that I was one of her harem of suitors, even if I were harbouring a secret. It was no great surprise that she would attach herself to Kurt. The accent and eyes would have been like catnip to her. But I was surprised at her resentful behaviour to me. She was determined to collect Kurt and make sure he had no one to turn to besides her. Either that or she knew how I felt about him. But that was impossible. No one knew. I even made sure to take her out sometimes like the other guys did, just innocently to keep up my cover. We had always been more like flirty friends, and her boyfriends didn't usually encroach on friendships. But it seemed that Kurt was a prize she wanted to claim.

That was the day I decided to fight.

* * *

><p>Music class came (after a long and heated story involving Talia's new boss and an evening spent chopping a bucket full of iceberg lettuce as well as ample note-taking on propaganda for the Nazi Party) and I was determined to talk to him on the way to set up some ground for classroom chatter. I walked out of the history classroom and waited for Kurt outside. He and Jess came giggling out the door and I somehow ended up following them around the corridor of the top floor and realised that Jess had Dance in the classrooms below the music rooms. This meant that she could walk Kurt all the way to the music room without attracting attention and also without me. My blood began to boil as she tossed her hair as she snuck a look over her shoulder at me. I half expected her to jokingly poke her tongue out at me, but her face was deadly serious as her eyes darted out at me. She probably thought she was making me jealous, I reasoned sensibly.<p>

She couldn't know.

No one knew.

Kurt stopped at the door to the classroom and Jess quite reluctantly kept walking to the stairwell. I caught up slowly approaching Kurt who was waiting outside the door. The door was closed but I knew Mr D well enough to know that it wasn't locked.

"Come in," I said turning the handle, "He always leaves it open for me." Kurt followed me through the door as I unthinkingly headed for Joanna. I tried to do a double take as I sat down, realising that this would require me to play in front of him. I somehow ended up doing a small hopping motion on the seat which did little but earn me a confused look from Kurt who had come to stand beside the piano. I slowly sat back on the stool, knowing there was no way out of this and cursing that I was notoriously early to this class. I placed my fingers on the keys and willing myself not to fumble, began to play a short classical tune I liked. I could feel Kurt watching me, making me nervous with him so close.

"You don't like this song?" he asked me as I squirmed on the seat, trying desperately to focus on the melody, rather than Kurt's hand resting on the piano. I could see his knuckles lightly flexing as he stroked the piano like it was a cat.

"No, I do," I replied, "Just not used to an audience." I smiled at him a little and he still managed to look confused.

"No, I mean, you don't _love_ this song? It's not your favourite?"

I shrugged as I played, my fingers tripping a little, "I guess not, but it's one of the more difficult ones I can manage!" I laughed.

Kurt frowned again and moved his hand down from the top of the piano to place on top of mine. He stopped them playing and looked at me; really looked at me. His pale blue eyes lasered into mine.

"What's your favourite song? Play that." It was a command. Not rude or harsh but completely compelling.

I played.

I forgot where I was and who was standing next to me. I just got lost in the music. It went by quickly as my fingers just obeyed the time learned instinct.

"Good choice," Kurt murmured as I finished. I smiled back at him lured in by his eyes. The whole world was in those orbs. I was taken from my reverie by a smattering of applause. Mr D and a few students stood in the doorway, Mr D with his hands together and a massive smile on his face. His teeth always shone brilliantly when he smiled like that and could see Kurt staring at them as he turned. I remembered being a little taken aback by Mr D's wide smile when I had first met him. I was shocked that such long teeth could fit in his face. But you soon got used to the toothy grin and it even became endearing over time.

I got up from the piano and went to my seat as Mr D came and took his place at the piano. Kurt merely stood there for a bit shaking his head, then, eyes glazed, came and took his place next to me. Any hope I had held for a laughing conversation was gone as Kurt seemed to have lost his sense of humour. He merely took down from the board. He never missed a word so he must have been concentrating. But I could have sworn I saw him staring at Mr D every time I looked up.

* * *

><p>That afternoon as I waited for the bus I saw Kurt standing against the wall of the office talking on his cell. I figured I'd go over there and chat till my bus came in (I had about twenty minutes to wait because I lived so far out), but as I crossed the pavement towards him I could hear his angry tone and it didn't seem like the kind of conversation I should be caught listening to.<p>

"...you promised that I could have this year to be normal. Normal school, normal students, normal _teachers_," he spat. "I don't understand how you couldn't realise that this would impact me," he paused to listen to the person on the line. "Well it's obviously too late to rectify this isn't it? You'd just drag me off to some other school with more of your 'friends' disguised there! Oh, don't play games! You knew! You knew and you used it to your advantage! You obviously don't care about our deal? Maybe I should renege too? Well that's what it's coming to..."

I walked away trying to remain inconspicuous in my confusion. I had barely imagined that his pretty Irish intonations could be twisted to be so angered. I started to realise that maybe there was a lot more to Kurt Hummel than one had first imagined.

**Reviews? Pretty please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**This is the first chapter I have had to write entirely from scratch for this story, everything else was already written just needed adapting. If it feels a bit different I apologise because I wrote the start 5 years ago :P **

**I'm glad people are liking it so far! Please leave a review if you enjoy it, I'm very reliant on opinions for this story because it's so different from my comfort zone after No Place Like Home. **

"She's really weird!" Scott insisted loudly. I gave him a withering look. He'd come home talking about the new girl in his class. I always encouraged him to be nice to girls, but he seemed to find them as irritating as I found them unappetising. I sometimes wondered if Scott was gay too. It wasn't uncommon for siblings to be gay, but there was something about Scott that just didn't feel gay. But he was ten years old. There would be plenty of time when he was older to discover his sexuality.

Or so I thought.

"She just looks at Mrs Arnam when she asks a question and then answers it!" he protested loudly.

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Why is that strange?" I asked him with a vague smile.

"Because no one knows everything like she does!" he insisted.

"Maybe she's just clever? Where did she move from?" I asked him.

"Like Ireland or somewhere," he shrugged and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter of the kitchen.

"Wait," I was suddenly really interested in everything about this girl, "Hummel? Is her last name Hummel?"

"Yeah, Elizabeth Hummel; how'd you know?" Scott spluttered through a mouthful of apple.

"Lucky guess."

* * *

><p>It seemed like fate to me then. Looking back I tried to encourage Scott to be friends with Elizabeth because it got me closer to Kurt. Kurt was perfect and untouchable and utterly, utterly intriguing. I'd never really been infatuated before. And that's what I was; infatuated. I didn't know enough about Kurt then to love him, even though I came to later. He was still a shiny mystery and his appeal was something I felt in my gut. I don't think I believe in love at first sight. It doesn't happen like that. You can't possibly know that you would spend eternity with someone based on one glance. Infatuation at first sight is too wordy I suppose.<p>

But it's also less romantic. The romantics want to believe that you can look at each other across the room and think 'eternity'.

The infatuated come to realise that eternity is too long for some people to handle.

The next day was the first day I got a boys phone number that I was interested in. It was also the last. I'd gotten numbers of guys at school before of course, but I'd never been interested in them and it had always been strictly for convenience. When Kurt gave me his number I wanted to ring it straight away, just to hear him say hello.

Kurt and I were paired up for a music assignment and at the end of the lesson he handed me a scrap of paper with his phone number scrawled on it.

_Blaine,_

_Give me a call - __338-7786_

_Kurt xx_

I remember my heart flopping wildly at the way he signed his name with crosses next to it. Kurt was gay. He had to be. He wouldn't sign his name that way unless he was.

He was interested in me.

The shiver that had thrilled my spine as he brushed my arm with a smile after he handed me that scrap of paper was almost orgasmic in the way it overtook my body.

"Wait!" I'd said and had torn off a piece of paper from a textbook – a highly out of character thing for me to do as someone who had revered books all his life.

_Kurt,_

_Can't wait to hear from you!_

_347-8593_

_Blaine xx_

Kurt had gazed at the words I scrawled messily with a tender sort of look on his face. He stroked the words and blushed, actually blushed, and that was the moment I knew that this was going to be more than just an infatuation for me. I was going to fall in love with Kurt.

If I hadn't already.

* * *

><p>Scott came home with more stories of Elizabeth Hummel, and I came home with her brother's signed kisses in my breast pocket, idealistically keeping them as close to my heart as possible.<p>

"She knows everything!" Scott insisted again. "Honestly, she's smarter than my teacher!"

"She's ten years old," I told him patiently, "She's not smarter than your teacher."

"I asked her why it rains and she went all science-y and told me about photo-synthesisers or something!" Scott said loudly as I made him a sandwich.

We arrived home about an hour before my mother on most days, and being seven years apart, I often felt more like Scott's father than his brother; especially when our own was such a distant disappointment.

"Photo-synthesis," I told him, "And maybe she was doing harder work in Ireland. Her brother is really clever too." I tried hard to keep the proud excited tone out of my voice.

Scott sort of gave me a funny look.

"Do you like him?" he asked me slowly and I froze, peanut butter clinging to the knife in my hand as it wavered shakily above the slice of bread.

I didn't answer. I didn't trust my voice.

"I'd never tell, you know?" Scott said softly and took the knife from my hands to finish making his sandwich. "I know what Dad can be like. But you can talk about it to me if you want."

I cleared my throat awkwardly.

"How did you…" I began, but Scott just hugged me and reached up to ruffle my hair, barely even having to stretch on his tippy toes to do it. He was getting so tall.

"I just always knew, Blaine," he smiled, "And it makes me sad you have no one to talk to. I know that I get sad when no one will listen to me because I'm a kid, but it must be worse for you."

He didn't actually say the word 'gay'.

But that was how I came out to my brother.

My brother was my best friend. I guess he still is. Just in a very different way. He always seemed like the old soul of the family. He picked up on emotions and subtleties that I never would have guessed he would and he always cared more about relationships and people than video games unlike other boys.

He took a bite of his sandwich and sat on the couch.

"So why are you so freaked out about Elizabeth then?" I asked him, "I don't want you to think I'm not listening to you because you're a kid."

"There's something about her, Blaine! It's like she's a grown up."

Out of the mouths of babes.

I wish I'd thought of that saying then.

* * *

><p>That night as I lay in bed my phone buzzed loudly beside my head on the nightstand. I wasn't asleep, just trying to. I wasn't accustomed to late night phone calls though.<p>

I answered it without looking at the screen.

"Hello?" I mumbled.

"I didn't wake you up, did I?" the voice asked worriedly and I sat bolt upright in bed as that shiver of electricity flew through me again.

"_Kurt_." I stated stupidly.

"Hi, Blaine," he said, and I could practically feel his blush through the phone line.

"I didn't think you'd call," I told him in a breathy tone. I can still remember the way my heart hammered on my ribcage at the sound of his voice saying my name.

"Why wouldn't I call you?" he asked. I wished I could see his beautiful face. It sounded like he was flirting with me, but I was so inexperienced that I couldn't be sure.

"I don't know. It just seemed like… too much," I told him.

"Blaine, I'm gay," he said straightforwardly.

My heart stopped beating and I don't think I even breathed while I comprehended that.

"Uh huh," I choked out.

"Anything you'd like to add, Blaine?" Kurt asked in that same demanding tone he'd used to compel me to play for him.

I had nodded then realised he couldn't see me.

"Me too," I whispered so softly I thought I'd have to repeat myself. I'd never told anyone I was gay, and now in the space of one evening I had come out to my brother and the perfect boy on the other end of the phone line.

"Is it a secret?" Kurt asked me and his voice was soft and comforting.

I nodded again and even though he couldn't see me, Kurt had understood.

"I won't tell, Blaine. But your friend Jess knows."

"What?" I felt my stomach heave a little with the bile that flooded my system. I'd been so careful.

"She was trying to make you jealous by sitting with me."

I had choked out a mirthless laugh at that. That sounded like Jess, and to be honest, I should have realised her game at the time.

"Why would I be jealous?" I retorted stupidly. I didn't know why I suddenly felt the flare up of anger at him. He was so calm and he didn't seem to realise that my entire life was over.

"I would have been jealous," he told me softly.

"Really?" I asked before I let myself dwell on that too much.

"I've never met anyone like you," Kurt smiled shyly down the phone line.

"Me neither," I smiled back and settled onto my side, curling up my legs and cradling the phone to my ear with the pillow.

"Would you…" he began shyly, "I'm bad at this, Blaine," he told me.

"Bad at what, Kurt?" I felt myself flirt with him.

Kurt sighed loudly.

"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?"

I nodded again and laughed softly.

"I was wondering if you'd like to have coffee with me," Kurt asked breathlessly.

"Like a date?" I clarified immediately. I wanted to be very clear on my expectations.

"Like a date," Kurt confirmed.

"I'd love that," I told him happily.

"What are you doing?" he asked me softly with a smile playing in his tone.

"I'm curled up in bed," I blushed.

"How are you laying?" he asked me and I remember feeling a little put out but the question. It seemed too intimate.

"I mean! I just want to picture you properly," Kurt struggled to make sure he didn't sound like a creep.

"I've got the phone wedged between my pillow and my ear and I'm curled up on my left side," I told him.

"I can't believe you said yes," Kurt sighed, "I've been so nervous!"

I laughed at him a little too loudly.

"Kurt, there's nothing you could ever ask me that I would say no to," I told him.

What the hell did I know?

Kurt and I lay awake for an hour talking on the phone. We discussed our favourite composers, and foods and books and movies, exclaiming with joy at how often we would overlap. We got to discussing families and Kurt seemed a little more serious. I told him about Scott telling me Elizabeth was too smart and laughed. I should have seen the signs in the way he tensed up at the subject of his sister. But really. Would I ever have guessed? Of course not. I'd read Ann Rice. I'd seen Twilight.

But that was always the furthest thing from my mind when I thought about Kurt.

After all, this was real life.

This wasn't a fictitious story.

Kurt retold the story of how they were adopted. He was ten and Elizabeth was three when they had been in the car crash that had killed their parents. He told me that their adoptive mother had been travelling in the car behind them and had stopped to help. She and her husband hadn't been able to have children and Kurt and Elizabeth had practically fallen into their laps in the most heartbreaking way possible. He told me that the crash had happened in Germany. He was German which was why his accent was so strange.

"I've always spoken English," he told me, "But it comes out this strange meld of American, Irish and German," he laughed.

"I like it," I smiled.

"So when do you want to have coffee?" he smiled in his voice.

"Sooner the better," I told him, actually pained by the fact he wasn't with me.

"Tomorrow?" he whispered brokenly. I didn't understand him. He was treating me with the same sort of reverence I bestowed on him and I was supremely undeserving. I wasn't special.

It's only looking back on it that I understand his reactions a little better. To look at Kurt without knowing what I now know, you would think he had broken hearts everywhere.

But knowing him and knowing everything about him now means I can see with the clarity of hindsight. He really did think I was amazing. It sounds conceited, but he really had never been given the opportunity to meet anyone else. I felt young and virginal around him. I had assumed that he was a million times more worldly than me. He hadn't even flinched when he'd told me he was gay for example. He felt comfortable to tell his secret.

Probably because of all the secrets Kurt Hummel had ever had to keep in his life, his sexuality was the least important one.

**Ahhh :P I WONDER what Kurt's biggest secret is? :P**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'd really love some more feedback on this story, so if you feel like leaving a review that would be peachy! Otherwise I'm ImaginedInsanity on Tumblr! Pop in and say hi! **

**I hope this is good…**

Kurt was quickly becoming addictive. I thought about him constantly. I thought about the way his hair was always perfectly in place. I thought about the way his teeth were constantly hidden by lips. I thought about the way his clothes fitted his body comfortably, leaving just enough to the imagination. But mostly I thought about him. His personality. He was beautiful, yes. He still is. But I found myself wanting to talk to him and smile and laugh like we had that first night on the phone more than touch him. Of course I wanted to touch him too. His skin was heavenly pale, almost translucent in its milkiness, and it just called out to my fingers in a way nothing ever had.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. It would be several days before I would have my first taste of what it was like to touch Kurt. Keeping up appearances of being straight and meeting up for a public coffee date didn't really mix. I knew from the off that I couldn't touch him.

And somehow that heightened everything.

Every time I would find a way to clear my head of thoughts of Kurt, I would hear that piano music in my head. He would raise his eyes in my head to stare at me as he played those last haunting notes, and then the cycle would begin again and I'd have to find something else to distract me from thoughts of him.

* * *

><p>On the day of the date I was hyper sensitive to him. I knew I couldn't touch him; knew I couldn't even acknowledge him in any way beyond friendly. But it killed me to sit beside him in music and feel the heat radiating from his skin. It killed me to see his hand resting on the desk and want so badly to hold it.<p>

After school we made our way to my car. I had driven to school, telling my mother that I had to stay at school to work on an assignment with a partner.

That was the first lie.

I didn't have a good car. It was unreliable and often it was simpler to just catch the bus instead of spending twenty minutes coaxing it to start by rev-ing the engine loudly. Thankfully I didn't have to rev the hell out of the engine when Kurt got in the passenger seat. I managed to pump the throttle twice and catch it on the third. Kurt smiled at the relieved little sigh I gave. His lips were pink and thin and enticing and his eyes wide and felt like some kind of precipice I could easily fall into. He sat with his legs crossed, his slim jeans hugging them, while his arms wrapped around his body; long fingers clinging to opposite arms like tree branches.

I grinned at him as I drove. Well I couldn't really help it I suppose. The grin was permanently on my face and I couldn't stop myself from watching him as I steered, so grinning at Kurt was the logical conclusion.

He smiled back and the air was so thick with nervous expectation that I had to put on the radio for some distraction.

_-singing in the dead of night-_

"Oh I love this song," Kurt said and softly and along.

_-Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
>All your life<br>You were only waiting for this moment to arise  
>You were only waiting for this moment to arise<br>You were only waiting for this moment to arise -_

It didn't seem fair that Kurt could be blessed with the ability to play piano like a genius and the ability to sing like an angel, but I remember having to keep a strict watch on the road as he sang to me in the car that day. He was too distracting and the last thing I wanted to do was have an accident with Kurt in the car.

"I love The Beatles," I said as he finished and the radio began a stream of advertisements.

"Me too," he smiled.

"I love your voice," I choked out, before I had a chance to censor myself. I really made it very obvious how I felt about him. It would be embarrassing, except that I know now that he was feeling the same way about me.

"Thank you," he spoke in his twisted accent.

We stayed silent as I pulled up in front of the coffee shop and got out of the car. I wanted to open his door. But people would see. So I contented myself with waiting and locking the car. When we walked to the door I remember him being too close. He was wearing some amazing cologne that I had managed to ignore in the car with the aid of an open window. Now it was hitting me full on. The small height difference between us meant I was nose-level with Kurt's neck, and I couldn't help but stare at it as the musky scent washed over me. His skin was so soft. I wondered what it would be like to wrap my fingers around the back of his neck; to cup his chin; to press my lips to his neck and kiss him.

I held the door open for him and the breeze of air conditioning from the open door broke my reverie. As long as I didn't mess this up, I was reasonably certain I would find out how it felt to do all those things one day. But first I had to pull myself together and go on my first date.

Well. First that counted.

We placed our orders and it didn't slip my notice the way the girl behind the counter gave a double take when she saw Kurt and plastered a sickly sweet smile on her face. His coffee cup said _Kurt_ with a heart next to it.

Kurt didn't notice.

Kurt just stared at me with a small smile as we sipped our coffee. We seemed to have exhausted all our topics that were suitable to begin a conversation last night on the phone. It felt much more like a second or third date to me, not that I had much experience in those matters.

Kurt's fingers brushed against mine as we reached for a piece of biscotti. I could feel the heat of his touch spread through my arm and travel straight to my heart. The cynic in me wants to say that it was because I had built up this moment so much in my head. I had been so addicted to the idea of touching Kurt that I had felt a tremor when he touched me just because it had actually happened. But I know that's bullshit.

It was like something in my soul knew that Kurt's touch was what would complete me. Like I needed to meet him and needed to touch him. Like it would change my life. Like it was fate.

And it was, I suppose.

If I hadn't, _he_ would have died.

Well… More than he did.

But I'm getting ahead of myself again.

Kurt was watching my fingers too, like he had felt the same thrill shoot up his arm at my touch.

"I wish I could hold your hand," he said softly with a sad smile, "I've wanted to ever since I saw the way you play piano."

I groaned at the memory of Kurt playing alone in that little rehearsal room.

"Oh, God. Ditto."

Kurt's face lit up at my genuine pain at not being able to hold his hand.

"Why aren't you out?" he asked me curiously, "I'm not judging, I just want to know everything I can about you."

"Are you out?" I countered.

"My adoptive mother and my sister know," Kurt replied with a nod. He tugged at his lip with his teeth worriedly. "I guess Jess knows because I didn't deny it, but I don't go around advertising it."

"I've never told anyone," I whispered softly and began to chew at my own bottom lip absentmindedly. "I mean, Scott knows, but he guessed."

"He seems clever, your brother," Kurt acknowledged with a smile that didn't quite meet his glorious eyes.

"Yeah he is," I smiled, "He's a great kid. Apparently your sister is smarter though!" I joked.

Kurt laughed a little too late.

"What's it like having a little sister?" I asked him. I'd often wondered what it would be like to have had a feminine presence in the house besides my mother. Whether I would have been able to fly under the radar a little more and be more flamboyant like I wished I could.

"I wouldn't know," Kurt said bitterly then horror flew across his expression. "I mean, she acts more like an older sister than a little one," he said quickly, "She's never been into Barbies or anything."

When I replay that moment in my mind I'm tainted with the knowledge of knowing. I'm sure that in reality it was a small slip up and a glib cover up. I'm sure I didn't recognise the horror that flew across Kurt's face for what it was: a mistake. I'm sure I nodded and sipped my coffee and smiled and twirled some biscotti and took a bite flirtatiously.

I was so fucking naïve.

"So we need to work on this composition," Kurt told me with a smile, "Do you have a piano at your house?"

I felt disappointed. I did have a piano. A nice one. But if we went to my house to work on the assignment then it would be strictly work. I couldn't hold Kurt's hand. I couldn't try for a kiss.

Kurt seemed to see the wheels in my head turning and nodded.

"You don't want your parents to figure it out that we're together," he said.

"We're together?" I croaked at him before I had a second to wonder whether I was being polite.

Kurt turned beetroot red and I watched him stammer.

"Well, I just… I thought…" he stuttered.

He was adorable and he had never seemed more human and fallible than right in that second.

"I want to," I told him, "But it's a secret and I don't think you deserve someone who can't tell the world."

Kurt smiled.

"I know how to keep a secret, Blaine. But you're right. Let's take it slow. You've got all the time in the world."

It never struck me until much later that he didn't say 'we've'.

"We'll go to my place then," Kurt said slowly. "Tomorrow afternoon? I just have to warn my mother if we're having company."

I gave him a strange look.

"The house is still a mess from the move," he explained. "She'll rip me to pieces if I bring someone home and it's a mess," he laughed.

"I wouldn't mind," I told him with a smile. In that moment I could have done anything to touch his hand or kiss him.

"She would," he said firmly. "Believe me, tomorrow is the best idea."

I didn't question it.

I couldn't stop myself from leaning across my seat and kissing him when I dropped him home. Just a peck on the cheek but it was the floodgate that would open us up to more comfortable touches and kisses.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he breathed and leapt out of the car to run to his front door.

A curtain moved in one of the upstairs windows like someone had been watching us.

**Awww, Blaine's gonna meet Kurt's family! :D**

**;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm having No Place Like Home review-itis! I'm not used to having so little feedback! I'm going on what I'm getting and assuming that most of you are enjoying it! Thank you to those people who do review, it honestly makes my day :D**

**Don't own Glee… :(**

"So how was school today, Blaine?" My father asked at dinner.

"Fine thank you," I replied politely.

"How was school today, Scott?" he continued and my brother rolled his eyes at me and put on a fake British accent.

"Absolutely spiffing, old chum thanks ever so much for asking!" he grinned.

My father frowned.

I smiled a bit, but kept silent.

"Scott, you're ten years old now, don't you think it's about time you grew up?" he demanded, "Enough of this jackass behaviour! Blaine never behaved this way!"

"Blaine never had any friends either," Scott pouted and poked his chicken.

"Blaine's got lots of friends," My mother smiled at me.

She was wrong. Looking back on it there was really only Maggie at school that I was close to. And we drifted apart after I told her I didn't love her.

But that was a few months later.

My father peered at me.

He had this terrifying way of catching your gaze and holding it, making you wonder what he could possibly see that he hated so much. What flaw had he spotted?

"Blaine, are you still dating Jess?" my father asked suddenly.

I shook my head.

"No, Dad."

He scoffed.

"I did wonder what she was doing with you. A girl like that wants a man who knows how to treat a woman, am I right?" he leered at my mother.

He disgusted me.

"We're just friends, we only went out once or twice," I corrected him.

"Son, men aren't friends with women," he told me, his concentrated gaze catching the side of my skull as I fixed my eyes on my dinner. "They bed them or they're gay."

I didn't say a word.

Scott looked at me and I prayed that he would have the sense of mind to keep his mouth shut.

My father suddenly grinned.

"Ahh," he swiped a hand dismissively in the air, "A slut like that isn't worth the condom, Blaine," he laughed.

My mother paled but gave a smile in response.

"You need to find a girl, Blaine," he finished, "learn how to treat a woman real nice."

He leered again and I felt sick.

I forced myself to shovel in the rest of my dinner, bite after bite of disgust and hatred and despair filling my mouth.

"I'm full, may I be excused?" I asked finally, "I have a lot of homework to do."

"Of course, honey," my mother told me and gave me a quick genuine smile.

I ran upstairs to my bathroom and threw up.

I'd always known I could never come out to my father, but that conversation just ruined me. I tried to rid myself of the horrible feelings inside me with every retch and cough. All it did was make me feel empty. I cried as the acid burned my nose and my throat but I couldn't stop. I needed to purge away every bit of hatred my father's conversation had forced me to swallow down.

* * *

><p>When Kurt rang that night, he almost immediately knew something was wrong.<p>

"Blaine? You're quiet," he told me, the question hanging ominously but never spoken.

"Yeah," I acknowledged dully and not even the thrill of Kurt's voice saying my name could enthuse me.

"What's wrong?" he asked urgently and for the first time in my life I actually felt like someone cared about me. Kurt was quickly becoming the most important person in my life.

"My… dad…" I said brokenly, trying hard to quell the tears that were forming in my eyes.

"Oh, _Blaine_," Kurt said softly. That's all he had to say. He didn't need to hear the details, he didn't need a play-by-play, he just _understood_.

"Anyway, forget him," I sniffed, "Am I still coming over tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I talked to her," Kurt replied, "She's got a meeting with the bank in the afternoon, something about signing off on the mortgage payment, but she'll be home for dinner if you want to stay?" Kurt's voice was uncertain. He didn't put too much emphasis on the question, like it was just a vague wondering he had had. I knew better though.

"I'll have to check with my parents but that sounds great," I smiled, "Better than dinner at my house anyway," I joked.

Kurt didn't laugh.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really," I told him, "I just want to forget it."

"Okay," he whispered, "I wish I could hug you."

My breath hitched in my throat at the idea of being hugged by Kurt.

"Yeah?" I smiled, "Maybe you can hug me tomorrow afternoon?" I hinted shyly.

"You're on, Anderson," he grinned, his voice light and cheerful.

* * *

><p>I talked to my mother in the morning. She was quiet; like she knew my father had hurt me, but didn't want to say anything against him.<p>

"My friend Kurt invited me over to his house for dinner to work on a project tonight," I told her, "Can I go?"

She froze as she looked at me.

"Kurt?" she asked, her voice trailing off.

"Kurt Hummel. He's just moved here," I told her. There was no point in lying about Kurt and I being friends. Just had to keep under wraps the way he made my heart beat faster and my skin tingle.

My mother seemed to be conflicted for several seconds.

"Is he a nice boy?" she finally asked softly.

I smiled happily, "Yeah, he is."

She nodded.

"Alright then," she said and ran a hand through my hair, "We'll just tell your father that you're at Maggie's okay?"

That seemed like an odd lie. But I didn't question it at the time. I was just happy to have permission. I kissed my mother and hugged her happily.

"Thanks, Mom!" I said and grabbed my keys, "I might be home late, don't wait up!"

* * *

><p>Kurt and I had no classes together that day. It was frustrating to only see him at lunch when we were surrounded by eyes. Maggie seemed insistent on monopolising me as well. I hadn't spent much time with her since Kurt had arrived, I suppose. We were best friends, always finishing each other's sentences and Maggie knew how to cheer me up even when I didn't know I was upset. We had movie nights every other weekend (Always at Maggie's house of course), and she didn't judge me that I cried in <em>Romeo and Juliet<em> or that I knew all the words to the songs in _My Fair Lady_. She really was a good friend. I wish I hadn't been so blind to the fact that she was in love with me, maybe then I wouldn't have hurt her so badly.

"So what are you doing tonight?" Maggie asked me, swinging her legs to kick me playfully from her perch on the picnic bench. I wasn't paying attention, instead I was watching the way Jess's hand was stroking Kurt's arm as he talked and trying to keep the glare off my face as she smirked at me.

"Hello! Earth to Blaine!" Maggie waved a hand in front of my face, "Wanna come over tonight and watch a movie? My mom's not going to be home," she raised her eyebrows suggestively but I didn't really pay any attention because Jess was sitting on Kurt's lap now.

"Um, I can't, Mags," I told her distractedly, "I've got to work on an assignment."

She nodded.

"Well maybe this weekend we could…"

The bell rang then signalling the end of lunch. I jumped up and trotted past Kurt to the bin. On the return trip I was feeling brave.

"Tease," I breathed in Kurt's ear, loving the way his neck covered in goose bumps at the feel of my voice.

He smiled at me.

"Meet you at your car?" he smiled.

"Can't wait," I said in a low voice, then realised we were still in public.

"See you later!" I said loudly and clapped him on the back.

He grimaced then laughed at me and waved.

He was magnificent.

* * *

><p>As we pulled up at Kurt's house, he took my hand and squeezed it. Looking back, I don't know which of us he was reassuring, but it was the first time I held hands with a boy and it was so special. His skin was so soft and although I never really thought of myself as very olive-skinned, in comparison to my hand, Kurt's skin glowed like the moon.<p>

We dropped our hands when we realised we couldn't escape my car otherwise then we walked side by side to his house.

I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to grab him and push him against the front door and kiss him. I wanted to smile at him sweetly and cup his chin and press our lips together softly. There were twenty-seven steps from my car to Kurt's front door. And with every step I imagined a new kiss.

He let himself inside with his key.

"Ellie won't be home yet, she catches the bus," he told me.

Walking into Kurt's house, I don't know what I was really expecting. There were still boxes everywhere and newspaper gathered in piles. But it was nice. Homely. There were pictures of Kurt as a boy already hanging. There was one of a girl who was about ten, who must have been Elizabeth holding a toddler. Kurt watched me look at the pictures and loudly asked me if I wanted anything to drink.

"Yeah, thanks," I smiled and followed him into the kitchen. I was embarrassed of some of my photos from when I was a kid too.

As Kurt opened the fridge door, the light hit his neck in such a way that I noticed the scar there.

I couldn't help myself and reached out to lightly trace it with my fingers. Kurt shivered and pushed my hand away a little too roughly.

When I looked at him he told me it was from the accident.

"Sorry," I muttered," and he reached out a hand to my arm.

"No, it's okay. It's just a little sensitive," he whispered. He was suddenly really close. He had a really light spattering of freckles on his nose from the Ohio sun, he'd shaved recently, he had one tiny hair that wasn't conforming with the rest of them. I noticed everything the first time he kissed me. I noticed the way he sucked in his breath and his pupils became a little wider. I noticed the way his hand found its way to the nape of my neck and wound in there. I noticed the way he parted his lips and bowed his head a little.

Then he kissed me and the world sort of stopped still. I'd kissed girls. There had been a time when I had pretended to myself that I was straight as well as everyone else. I'd even kissed Jess once or twice. So I was no stranger to kisses.

But kisses with boys?

No.

Kisses with Kurt?

Nothing could have prepared me for the flood of adrenaline, the tingle in my toes, the pounding of my heart. This was why people kissed. I'd never really found much real enjoyment in the activity before. But that first kiss and the thousands that came after, sent tremors through my whole body and I could never get enough of Kurt's lips.

At least until he told me I couldn't have them anymore.

"God, Kurt," I shuddered brokenly as he pulled away and we rested our foreheads together, breathing heavily.

"You're amazing," he muttered in awe and traced his fingers over my face, "You're just so gloriously alive and perfect."

"You are too," I told him and he grinned.

Then I kissed him again.

Looking back, I wonder if, knowing what I know now, whether I would have still kissed him. But I know the answer to that, even now. If it's a question between kissing Kurt and not kissing Kurt, I'll choose kissing him for eternity. If only he'd choose that too.

The front door swung open and we burst apart like something had burnt us.

"Holy crap, Kurt! You can't just expect to get away with this bullshit!" Elizabeth shouted at him. Kurt wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and he glared at his little sister.

"Elizabeth, this is Blaine," he indicated to me, "Be nice."

"It's not fucking fair, Kurt and you know it!" she exploded then nodded to me, "How do you do?"

Then she stormed off down the hallway and slammed a door. Kurt flinched.

"That's my sister," he smiled shakily, watching me with cautious eyes.

"What was all that about?" I laughed nervously, "She's got a mouth on her!"

"Yeah, she's angry about moving," Kurt said smoothly.

I don't know if I knew I was being lied to. But there was something different about Elizabeth. I wondered what it was that had Scott so weirded out by her.

Then Kurt took my hand again and smiled and I only cared about her brother.

**PLEEEEASE let me know what you think? :P**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for the beautiful reviews! You're all really kind! This is an important chapter… A lot happens unlike other ones… Hopefully I pull it off? I get so damned anxious about this story :P I really like it, but I'm afraid I'm not doing it justice with the way I write it :P Aww well, you know what they say about beggars and choosers :P Blaine does something horrible in this chapter that I really hope you can forgive him for…**

**Enjoy!**

When Kurt's mother came home, she brought with her a mountain of Chinese food. Like an absolute tonne. There was no way the four of us would ever eat it all. I just assumed she was really big on leftovers at the time. Maybe there had been a special at the restaurant.

Or maybe she just wasn't used to normal serving sizes.

She was pleasant enough. She had dark hair and eyes, the complete opposite of Kurt and Elizabeth. Her complexion was pale too and she was very slim. She had the feel of a woman who appeared slight but was strong and got her own way and was not to be messed with; kind but firm. She introduced herself as Maxine and kissed Kurt and ruffled his hair like he was a lap dog. He managed to hide his annoyance quite well. I was surprised he tolerated it.

"Where's Ellie?" Maxine asked as she piled bags of Chinese food onto the counter.

Kurt shot a look at me and glanced back at his mother.

"Sulking," he said.

Maxine looked at me.

"Oh," she said frowning, "I'll go and talk to her."

"It's not you she's mad at," Kurt mumbled with a guilty look on his face and I took his hand reassuringly, even though I was so fucking naïve I had no idea what the fuck they were talking about.

Maxine's eyes shot straight to our hands and it was like her gaze burnt a hole through them because Kurt dropped my hand immediately with a stricken look on his face.

"What…" Maxine began slowly, glaring at me or at Kurt, I don't remember which. I just remember feeling threatened and defensive and to be honest, she could have glared at Kurt and my body would have reacted the same as if she were glaring daggers at me.

Kurt coughed loudly.

"Mom, can we talk about this later?" he said pointedly.

Maxine looked furious, but saw me watching her intently and nodded.

"So, Blaine," she began abruptly, "You're gay?"

I remember the panic still. I felt my gut and innards freeze at the question. Kurt hissed next to me and his mother smirked.

"Guess that's my answer," she smiled coldly, "Are you out?"

Kurt leapt in front of me where I was frozen in panic.

I wish I'd realised the secret then.

I wouldn't have worried about her knowing I was gay at all.

"Blaine, go get a glass of water or something, okay?" Kurt said gently.

I nodded, my mouth parched.

I heard hisses and frustrated sighs behind me as I made my way to the kitchen. Kurt had two fridges in his kitchen. Obviously one was the freezer. Both doors had silver hinged locks on them. The kind you use to make them child safe or pet safe. Neither was locked.

I often think about how my life might have been different if I had guessed the other door. I had a fifty percent chance of leading a normal naïve life right then.

Probability's a heartless bitch.

I guess you know what's coming. I guess I don't really need to continue with this part. You, unlike me, are not naïve. Maybe it's because I've been here retelling with the power of foresight. Maybe it's because you've lived enough to trust that no one is as perfect as Kurt. Maybe it's that you've encountered this before. Whatever the reason, I'm sure you can guess what I found when I yanked open the freezer door instead of the fridge in my haste for water to escape the frantic argument behind me.

The freezer was empty.

Except for a dozens and dozens of hospital fluid bags filled with blood.

I picked one up. Did Kurt's mother need transfusions? Was she sick?

Then I dropped the solid bag with a thud.

It said "KURT'S" on the side of it.

I glanced at another one and saw the same thing, this time with a date written beside it.

Kurt suddenly ran to slam the fridge door with a loud bang. He looked panicked, guilty, pleading, desperate. He pressed his back against the metal and breathed heavily. I have a strange sort of comparison in my head of the way he looked before he kissed me in front of that fridge, and the way he looked right then.

"Kurt?" I asked slowly, and my eyes sort of flitted around the room.

There were curtains on all the windows. Thick, heavy drapes, that didn't even let a little of the afternoon sun stream through. Maxine wore a long coat, even though it was broiling hot outside. The skin of her neck was red and slightly blistering like she had been very badly sunburnt.

I looked at Kurt's worried eyes and backed away a little.

I was being crazy. Surely.

Elizabeth stormed back into the room. She looked in disgust at the Chinese food.

"I don't want to eat this crap!" she snarled. "It's not fair!"

"Well, we could order a pizza?" Kurt pleaded with her desperately, dragging his gaze away from mine to stare at his sister pointedly.

"Oh, wow," she sniggered, "Did I forget to lock the freezer?" she giggled as she looked from Kurt to me to the frozen bag of blood on the floor. "Oops."

It suddenly occurred to me to look at Kurt's sister. Really take her in.

She was similar to Kurt, very similar. She had the same pale skin, the same thin lips. Her teeth were a little more noticeable but I had attributed that to the fact that she was so much smaller. They had to be brother and sister. But that photo of her holding the toddler that hung on the wall? That photo was aged. It was at least ten years old.

How could Elizabeth have not aged?

Why did Maxine react like that when she saw me hold her son's hand?

Why did Kurt have that ethereal ability to play piano and take over my life like he was fated to be there?

Most importantly, why were there bags and bags of blood for Kurt in the freezer?

"You knew this would happen, Kurt," Maxine said softly and she actually looked apologetic.

Was she going to kill me?

That was what ran through my head.

Was she going to pull back her lips to reveal fangs and sink her teeth into my neck like it was butter? Was she going to suck my blood till I was dry and lifeless?

A sadistic, ill-humoured part of me wants to make a joke about the hopeful expectations I had about getting sucked that night. It wasn't true of course; sex had been the furthest thing from my mind when Kurt had invited me for dinner. I just like to make that little joke because it lightens the mood. You see, Maxine didn't kill me. None of them did, no matter how much I would eventually beg them to do it.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed in sorrow, "Go."

I didn't need to be told twice.

I was out of that house and in my car before I could even stop to panic some more.

I pummelled the steering wheel furiously when the engine refused to turn over, then leapt forward in my seat as the engine roared to life, as if the centrifugal motion of me moving in my seat might make my car take off quicker. I paused slowly as I unwillingly felt my eyes turn to Kurt's house.

Kurt was standing in the doorway with tears pouring down his face.

I drove away.

I'm ashamed dreadfully of the next thing I did.

I didn't go home. I didn't retreat into the relative cosiness of my father's company.

I went to Maggie's.

You can judge me. You can think I'm disgusting, fickle, a user. But in my opinion I'd escaped death. I'd been close to being murdered by a family of mythical creatures. Not to mention that Kurt was a _vampire_? Kurt? Beautiful, all-consuming, boy-I-was-half-in-love-with Kurt?

My feelings for Kurt were so confusing right then. I'd just had my first real kiss with a boy and an hour later I was finding out that he wanted to drink my blood.

I tended to be a bit of an exaggerator too.

Looking back I can smile at my panic. I can see the tears in Kurt's eyes when he realised what I thought. I can understand why he told me to go; that it was for my sense of mind, not to remove the temptation of my blood.

Still, I'll always feel guilty for what I did that night.

Maggie didn't deserve it.

* * *

><p>I knocked incessantly on Maggie's door. I didn't stop until she answered it in her tank top and boyleg shorts. Her hair was a mess and she smelt deliciously of popcorn and safety.<p>

"Blaine?" she said in confusion, "Did you change your mind?"

I remember not understanding that question at the time, but looking back, I remember her telling me her mom was out. Her mom was out and she invited me to watch a movie.

All the signs were there.

"Can I come in?" I barged past her and paced around her tiny living room.

"Please, come in," she waved her arm sarcastically, "What's wrong, Blaine?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, "I just wanted to see you. I _needed_ to see you."

Maggie gave a little smile then. Her mouth turned up at the edges beautifully and she glowed under the assumed compliment.

"Aww, well aren't you sweet?" she laughed and hugged me.

I held onto her so tightly. She was alive and safe and comfortable, and everything in my body was tingling with the relief of being safe and relishing in the contact.

Maggie rested her head on my shoulder and kissed my neck like she sometimes did. Just a peck. Just an affectionate little peck that sometimes landed there because she couldn't quite reach my cheek. Just an affectionate little peck to my neck that suddenly included tongue. And teeth.

I shivered and trembled at the feel of teeth on my neck so soon after my terrifying realisation that I was in love with a vampire and Maggie lifted her head and kissed me full on the mouth.

It was different. It was probably more comfortable than all the kisses I had ever had up till that point because we were such close friends, but by the same token it felt wrong to me. This was Maggie!

It didn't stop me from kissing back.

Hard.

It didn't stop me from weaving my hands through her long hair and moaning.

No!

Everything that was me was screaming to stop and everything that was survival instinct was suddenly getting _hard_. I was freaking out further. I was getting an erection because of a girl and that was almost scarier than the vampire family I'd nearly had dinner with.

I've done a lot of research into my behaviour that night. I hated to be so Freudian but it's easily explained. The human race and in fact all life has a natural instinct to survive. When that is threatened, we take steps to ensure that our line will carry on. Will survive.

Having sex with Maggie wasn't something I'm proud of.

I can reason with myself that she instigated it. I can reason that she was the one peeling off my pants and rolling a condom over me and sinking down. I can reason that I didn't come so it didn't count. I can reason that it was survival instinct.

I can't reason the part where I didn't stop her.

I'm not yelling 'rape'. Not at all. It was consensual. But it wasn't something I ever want to remember, and I'd not like to retell it now.

Suffice it to say, Maggie never knew how little I enjoyed the experience. I made the right noises, I said the right things, and by the time she had finished, my cock was so limp she would never have guessed I hadn't come.

I left not long after, claiming I had to be home.

I didn't kiss her again.

I remember driving home and crying, thinking how proud my dad would be to know that his son had got his dick wet.

**Poor Blaine :( Please let me know what you think!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Yay! Someone told me this story was 'so fucked up'! They liked it though! I know Blaine's behaviour was wrong. He's going to do a few 'wrong' things in this story… its AU… To be fair, I only changed the names really, the plot is essentially the same, so OOC is a given :P**

**Glad you're enjoying the controversy! All will be revealed next chapter :D**

I don't like to remember that night. I don't like to remember my first time. Maggie had had sex before so I feel a little comforted that I didn't steal that from her as well as from myself.

But when I remember my first time, I don't count Maggie.

It's funny that the horror of that experience overpowered any terror I felt about my realisations about Kurt. I barely even thought about the fact that I was semi-dating a vampire as I lay in bed. I was more concerned with the implications of my actions with Maggie.

It certainly hit me full force the next morning though.

I couldn't leave the house. I was safe there. That was why Kurt had pushed to try to get an invite into my home. Vampires couldn't cross thresholds. Now he'd let me slip through his fingers and he couldn't get me. Of course, some logical part of my brain finally talked reason into the rest and pointed out that if Kurt had wanted to kill me he could have done it already.

But still, I didn't like to take the risk, and I certainly didn't want to see Maggie.

I faked a story about being sick to my mother.

She seemed to buy it. I keep telling you how honest I used to be, and it really was true. I never told lies, except about my sexuality, but it was unsettling how quickly I was falling into the habit now that I had begun. People believed me because I was trustworthy. And it just made lying that much easier.

My phone rang shortly after lessons would have started.

Kurt.

I didn't answer.

My phone rang again at lunch break.

Maggie.

I didn't answer.

* * *

><p>At two in the afternoon, after a day of drifting in and out of conscious thought, curled up in bed, there came a pounding at the door.<p>

"Blaine, I know you're home!" Kurt yelled.

I walked towards the door but stayed silent. For some reason his voice didn't scare me like I had been expecting. I should have been terrified of him, but all I could picture was his fucking lips and his beautiful fucking hands playing the piano.

"Blaine?" he called hopelessly. "I need to talk to you about this!"

"I have nothing to say to you, Kurt," I told him dully, resting my head against the door and I felt the door move a little as he did the same. I would think it was a romantic gesture later. Right then I just thought he was sniffing me.

"Blaine, just let me explain, okay?" he said earnestly, "Open the door! It's not what you think!"

"Oh, how naïve do you think I am?" I demanded angrily. Why was I even talking to him? I still felt attracted to him, and I still felt like he understood me and cared about me, and I couldn't understand why.

"Blaine, you're not completely wrong," Kurt sobbed a little, "But I need you to trust me."

"Well, I don't, Kurt," I spat at him and I practically felt the door flinch.

He waited for several minutes, I could hear him breathing. Then he turned and left.

I waited about half an hour then curled back into my bed and managed to fall asleep.

* * *

><p>I dreamed of him. He was sitting in that field again, just picking flowers. All the romantic imagery in the world surrounded him. He smiled at me and laughed and his laugh suddenly became a scream and blood was dripping from some unseen wound. The bright red contrasted starkly against the little forget-me-not's that dropped from his lifeless hands.<p>

I woke up in a sweat, my mother cooing at me gently and wiping my forehead with a damp cloth.

"Aww, baby," she said softly and there was a real worry in her eyes.

"I'm fine," I pushed her away as she dragged the rough wet fabric across my neck.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked me and pushed back my hair, "I picked Scott and his friend up from school and brought home Doritos," she smiled at me.

I couldn't help but smile a little. A few weeks ago, there was no problem that couldn't be solved by my mother bringing home Doritos.

"Has Scott got Jamie over again?" I winged, "He always scoffs into them, the pig."

My mother smiled at that. Jamie was a tubby boy from Scott's class who liked to frequent our house at mealtimes.

"No, its that new girl Scott was talking about. Her name's Elizabeth. I met her mother at the bank yesterday and we got to talking about the kids. She hasn't met any parents yet so I offered to have Elizabeth over and invite them for dinner."

"You _what_?" I asked her slowly.

"Yes, Maxine Hummel is her name. Didn't you say your friend Kurt's name was Hummel? Is that his mother?" I didn't answer her.

"Well, anyway, she's bringing her son for dinner tonight, but Elizabeth's already here," my mom smiled, "And she's a real sweetheart, such lovely manners!"

I wanted to die. And the irony was, that there was someone in my house at that moment who wanted me dead just as much.

I didn't want to move.

I could hear my piano playing from downstairs. It wasn't Scott; he was strictly a guitar player. The music was ethereal and beautiful. It reminded me of Kurt.

"Oh, listen to that!" my mother exclaimed and motioned to me, "Come on!" and with that she bustled from the room.

I knew I couldn't leave my mother and brother alone with Elizabeth. But what good was I against a vampire, really?

Regardless, I made my way downstairs, following the music towards my piano. Elizabeth sat there, her hands almost invisible by how skilfully and quick she moved them across the keys.

My mother sighed and smiled. Scott looked on in awe. I glared.

I didn't like Elizabeth. It wasn't just that she was a vampire, there seemed to be something bitter and spiteful about her. Of course, once I'd heard her story, I felt differently, but right at that moment, I was imagining ways to plunge candlesticks into her heart. It was made worse by the fact that my mother and brother liked her company. She finished playing and smiled politely at me and told me it was nice to see me again and that I had a beautiful piano. She complimented my mother's garden, and played chess with Scott.

Outwardly she was a boring well-bred ten year-old.

Which made it really hard to despise her.

* * *

><p>I checked my phone about twenty minutes before Kurt and Maxine were supposed to arrive. I had five missed calls from Maggie, seven from Kurt and a handful of text messages.<p>

_Blaine, I want to talk to you. The blood you saw… It's complicated, alright? –_ **Kurt 1:45pm**

_Blaine, I get that you don't trust me, but I'd never do anything to hurt you, I promise –_ **Kurt 2:15pm**

_You avoiding me? Please don't make this awkward. I miss you. Xx –_ **Maggie 3:33pm**

_Blaine, I swear I had no idea Mom got herself invited to your house. I know Ellie's there, please don't freak out. I'm mad as hell at them, but I'm also really glad to get to see you, I missed you today. I can't wait to explain things a little better –_ **Kurt 4:47pm**

_Don't worry. They won't out you. –_ **Kurt 4:49pm**

That last message got to me. There was something about the way he'd been so pre-emptive in thinking about my feelings, that he'd been miles ahead of me that proved he cared. Proved he would never hurt me. Proved he knew me too well. I didn't care at that moment if my father knew I was gay, there was much more at stake. But I knew that when they left and went home, if my family and I were still alive then I would care, and I was suddenly weirdly grateful to Kurt for making them keep my secret.

* * *

><p>I think at dinner that night I knew Kurt wasn't going to kill me. To be honest, I think I knew that right from the start, but panic had set in before I could question my trust in him.<p>

He was a model guest. He complimented my mother, made jokes with Scott that he snorted at, even smiled politely at my father.

And he squeezed my leg under the table reassuringly the whole time.

Maxine was actually funny which came as a surprise to me considering how furious she had been when I'd met her. And Elizabeth never swore once, instead reminding me of a bookish Hermione Granger wannabe. Scott seemed in awe of her every time she opened her mouth.

"We only moved here a week and a half ago," Maxine smiled broadly at my mother, "And we're still getting settled, but I can't tell you how lovely you are for inviting us into your home."

I grimaced at the word choice and Kurt squeezed my knee. I shifted away a little, shivering fiercely at the touch.

"Nonsense, a beautiful woman shouldn't be alone with two children," my father flirted outrageously, "Ann did the right thing to invite you over."

I noticed the slight hurt in my mother's eyes whenever my father acted like this. He had no respect for her feelings and although she always smiled, her smiles were too vacant to be genuine.

Maxine smiled coldly.

"That's sweet, Frank, but your wife is far more special than you give her credit for. I think you should appreciate what you have while you have it."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the table, during which I moved my hand to my lap to wrestle Kurt's fingers from their grip on my leg.

"So, Kurt," my father snapped, his patience wearing thin with Maxine's lack of interest in him, "Got a girlfriend?"

Kurt shook his head.

"No, Sir," he smiled politely.

"Well there's nothing to smile about, boy!" My father sneered, "You've got the unknown advantage; you can take your pick! Got your eye on anyone?"

Kurt gave a small smile and nodded imperceptively, "Perhaps," he allowed.

"Ahhh! A man who knows how to play the game!" My father grinned, "Teach Blaine, will you? At the rate he's going he'll probably end up a faggot." My father laughed loudly and I let my eyes focus on my dinner as Kurt's fingers rubbed my thigh comfortingly. Scott looked cross and my mother looked sad. Maxine looked furious.

"I have met several men in my life who have appeared deserving of the title 'gentleman', and none of them spoke about their children that way. If your son were ever gay, he'd never have the courage to tell you when you say things like that. I value my son as a person, not because of who he loves." She spoke quietly but with a force that compelled everyone in the room to listen.

"Ha! If my son were gay, he'd know not to bother coming home!" My father laughed rudely, "My sons need a good strong role model to show them how a real man behaves. I don't stand for all this touchy-feely, faggy crap."

Maxine stood up suddenly.

She shot a look at Kurt who looked horrified.

I remember thinking that she was about to kill my father. I remember the image of her leaping across the table and breaking his neck replaying through my brain. The sad bit is I don't know if I would have even minded.

Instead she suddenly announced that they must be going and Kurt breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Blaine, would you like to come to our house for a bit?" she offered, "Kurt said you needed to work on a project for school?"

Kurt fixed me with his stare and in that moment I knew what he was saying.

_I won't hurt you, you need me as much as I need you. Please let me explain._

I looked at my mother, even though I was undecided, the question was in my eyes.

"It's fine with me, darling," she said, "As long as you're back by curfew."

I nodded. It was Friday night. Curfew was midnight.

"Alright," I nodded at Kurt, "I'll just grab my books."

Kurt followed me out of the dining room and upstairs to my bedroom.

"We don't really have to go to my house," he pleaded, "I'll go anywhere you like that makes you feel safe to talk to me; to listen. Blaine, I care about you a lot… a lot more than I thought I ever could, and I don't want to lose you. Not yet."

I should have been more clued in to the 'not yet'.

"You'll tell me everything?" I demanded, "I want to know, Kurt."

"I will tell you everything," he promised.

"Then we'll go to the park."

I still don't know why I said that. Like the park was the strangest place I could have picked, I hadn't been there myself in a couple of months. I remember loving the trees and the swings when I was a kid.

"You won't get scared?" Kurt asked softly and he moved to cup my cheek. I hated the way my eyes fluttered closed momentarily at his touch. I wanted to moan.

"I can't promise that, Kurt," I said and shivered as I pulled away from him, "Stop touching me, I haven't said I want to be with you. But I'll listen."

**Review me? :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's some answers for ya! I hope this is okay… Please review THIS chapter, even if you haven't before, I'm veeeerry anxious about this one! Someone asked a question in reviews about character death… Technically there IS character death… but there are VAMPIRES in this story, so no one ACTUALLY dies… Clear? :P Annnd that's all I'll say on the subject :P I think I'm going to shock you with this chapter… At least I hope I will…**

I don't know what made me choose the park that night. I really don't. But I think it must have been something subconscious; some memory that my soul remembered that I didn't. I noticed when I stepped out of my car the flowerbeds of forget-me-nots around the swing set. The little flowers had escaped their flowerbeds many years ago and had begun to scatter themselves in the grass. Kurt chose a patch of grass in the darkness, probably never realising there were even flowers beneath him. I could only see them in my memory really; my eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark, even though the moon shone brightly.

I sat opposite Kurt, keeping enough distance between us that he couldn't easily sink his teeth into my neck, close enough that I could hear every word and read his expressions, and within sight of my car. I remember how silly I felt; poised to run to my car, like I could possibly escape him if he wanted to kill me.

Death seems so different now. Then it was something keeping me from living. Now it seems like living is keeping me from really being alive. The only tiny thread even holding me to life is Kurt. The way he looks at me, the way he quietly blushes, the way he protects me and comforts me and loves me. If he asked me to do anything in the world for him, it would be done in a heartbeat. And I thought he felt the same… Anyway, I mustn't hop around when I tell this story. It's confusing enough.

Kurt cleared his throat slightly. I didn't respond, I just sat there, waiting for him to speak.

"Blaine, I won't ever let anything hurt you," he told me earnestly, "And you have to know that even if I were capable of hurting you I absolutely never would."

I scoffed at that. Kurt was more capable of hurting me than anyone.

"Save the romantics, Kurt," I told him abruptly, "I want facts."

"What do you think is going on?" Kurt said slowly, "I'm not sure how much I can actually reveal without breaking some pretty serious codes. If you know some things I can set you straight and just better inform you in general."

I remember being annoyed at that. I wanted answers and Kurt had promised them and now he was backtracking.

"Kurt, you have bags filled with blood in your freezer and ten or fifteen year old photographs of Elizabeth when she hasn't aged a day!" I exploded, "It's not rocket science to come to the ridiculous conclusion I came to. You're vampires."

The word sounded ridiculous spoken outside my head. I actually laughed deliriously at the sheer ridiculousness.

Kurt shook his head at me.

"Yes and no," he told me.

"Kurt, I don't think it's a half and half kind of deal!" I snapped, "Either you drink blood and you're immortal and undead, or you aren't!"

"I didn't mean half-vampire," Kurt said gently, "I mean, you're only partly correct."

I should have known it really. Kurt was too beautiful, too kind, too loving, and too incredibly alive.

"I'm not a vampire, Blaine," Kurt said and inched a little closer to me. "If you have a knife or some scissors, I'll prove it to you. I bleed, Blaine. I'm as alive as you are.

"I don't believe you," I sneered, "Why do you drink blood if you're not a vampire?"

Kurt leaned forward and pulled the car keys gently from my grasp. I resisted a little but let him take them, barely caring that I had no way to leave.

Carefully, Kurt took the sharp serrated edge of my house key and pressed it into the scar on his neck. It tore open a little too easily, blood seeping down his neck leaving dark trails on his milky skin.

My mouth fell open. This had to be a vampire trick. They could store blood or something to trick humans into believing they were human too.

"Blaine?" Kurt spoke softly, handing me back my keys as he pulled out a handkerchief to press to his neck. "The blood in the freezer _is_ mine. But I didn't put it there to drink. It's _my_ blood. Every couple of days I let them take a bag of my blood. It's been happening since I was three," he told me matter-of-factly

I remember shaking my head with my mouth open wordlessly. I don't know what I believed right then, but I was certain that my own opinion was untrustworthy. I wanted Kurt to be human. I didn't want Kurt to be a blood-drinking demon; I wanted him to be human and fragile like me. I thought my own foolish human judgement was going to get me killed. I was sure I was letting my desire for Kurt drive my instincts.

So the next thing I uttered and the next thing I did, was completely reckless.

"Oh, _Kurt_!" I breathed softly and leant forward abruptly, pressing my lips to his and winding my fingers through his hair. Kurt felt like home, and I've never minded if kissing him is a bad idea, Kurt's lips are my happy place, and without them life loses all joy.

Kurt moaned happily and pulled away.

"Blaine?" he smiled, "I'm so happy you believe me, but there's more to the story and in the efforts of full disclosure, you probably shouldn't kiss me again until you know everything."

I nodded, but I didn't let go of him.

"You're not a vampire?" I asked him again, unable to believe the good luck that my crush was not undead. And yes, I was beginning to see just how ridiculous my life sounded.

"No, I'm not," he smiled and rubbed my hand. Then his smile faded as if he remembered something important that he was late for. "At least not yet anyway," he added softly.

Panic set into my throat obstructing my words.

"When I was three years old I had a car accident with my parents," Kurt began and settled against me. I sensed he needed the reminder that I was next to him and actually listening. "I wasn't hurt, but the crash killed my parents. And Elizabeth."

I stared at him. _What_?

"Maxine was travelling in the car behind us and she stopped to help us. There was nothing she could do for our Mom and Dad, and I was fine, I just had a cut on my neck. Vampire saliva can close wounds. I know it sounds crazy, but it clots the blood quicker or something. That's why once they bite they need to keep sucking, otherwise the wound just closes." I shivered then, even though it was a warm night. "So Maxine licked me and healed my neck, but she couldn't help Elizabeth. Elizabeth was crying and bleeding, and begging her to do anything, to save her. So Maxine did. She turned Ellie. Ellie was seven years older than me. And now she'll never grow up."

Kurt didn't seem to notice the tears falling from his eyes as he spoke in little racking sobs. He told his story with a well-practiced yet unfamiliar air. It was as if he had rehearsed this conversation many, many times in front of the mirror, but had ever quite got up the nerve to voice it out loud. I wondered vaguely if Kurt had ever had anyone else in his life he was close enough to tell this to. Definitely not, I decided. He was only telling me because I'd found them out. He'd not be telling people willy-nilly. Kurt had never been able to tell anyone the secret of his younger sister. Who was really his older sister, I realised.

"So Ellie is twenty-four?" I asked him softly, suddenly filled with pity for her. She wasn't the younger sister, she was an adult forced to re-live fourth grade fourteen times. If that wasn't hell, I don't know what was. Later, Ellie and I would become friends and she would tell me her story herself. For now, I knew the short version; the version Kurt didn't like to dwell on, because the life his sister was forced to lead was stabbing into his heart.

Kurt nodded.

"Maxine got in a lot of trouble last year. That's why we moved; she never had a husband. Another vampire found out about Ellie and reported her. It's unethical to turn minors," he told me and I had the strange urge to laugh at the regular way he said that. "Also, non-vampires aren't supposed to have prolonged exposure to their ways. Keeping me as a pet, and having already turned Ellie so young, I'm surprised they let her live." I nodded slightly to encourage him to keep talking.

"I had to make a deal," he pleaded with me to understand, "They were going to just kill her, and God only knows what would have happened to Ellie, so I told them I was going to be turned when my body turned eighteen and I promised that I would be there to guard Ellie."

My breath hitched.

"That's why we moved. I wanted a year of being normal; being human before I have to die, Blaine. I'd never even been to school before."

"You can't die, Kurt!" I demanded, "Isn't there some way out of this?"

I refused to even think about the possibility of Kurt dying right then. But it seemed set in stone, unmoving. A date.

Kurt shook his head sadly.

"I wish there was, Blaine," he told me honestly, "I don't want to die. I want to be with you."

"Why can't you?" I demanded, "If they turn you it doesn't mean I would stop caring about you!"

Kurt sobbed and held onto me tightly. His face was crinkled in a bittersweet smile, like he was laughing at my innocence.

"No human/vampire prolonged contact, remember? I'm only alive because they know that turning me before I'm eighteen isn't ethical. You only have to look at Ellie and see what it's done to her, Blaine. And you only have to look at me to see what living with vampires has done to me, Blaine. I won't put you in danger every day. So I have to ask you now. Is there any way you can even conceive for this to be a one-year thing? I like you. I think I'm falling in love with you even. But I have to die when I turn eighteen. And you'll never see me again. I know if I come near you after I'm turned, I'll lose control and either kill you or turn you. So I will leave. And never come back," Kurt was speaking calmly again now, like he had resigned himself to his fate, "Blaine, can you handle that? Do you still want to be with me?"

He played with one of the little blue forget-me-nots as he spoke, even though it was colourless and dark in the night. His face was unreadable and his silhouette was stark against the sky. I weighed my options like there was an actual decision to be made. It's funny to me how very seriously I considered the pros and cons. As if I would ever be able to walk away. How agonisingly painful it would be to lose Kurt to the finality of immortality after a year. How amazing it would be to have that perfect year with my soul mate, knowing that would be all I would ever have with him; knowing that every single moment was special and cherished.

"Kurt, I'll want to be with you for as long as I can. For as long as you can offer me; I'll be by your side."

"Are you sure, Blaine?" he asked me and he moved his cheek to rest next to mine as he hugged me, "If you ever want to back out or if you find someone else, I'll understand."

"Shut up," I told him firmly. "If you only have a year left to live, and I only have a year left to spend with you, then I don't want to spend it arguing about whether I should want you or not. I do. I want you. And any way you look at it, if I want you and you want me, we'd be fools not to take advantage of the time we have together."

He pressed kisses to my madly, opening his lips and slipping his tongue into my mouth passionately. He was an excellent kisser, he meant to make it special and it was. Kurt was addictive.

As I kissed him, I made a solemn vow to myself.

I was never letting him go.

Kurt wasn't going to die, I would save him.

I just had a year to work out how.

**Who was fooled that Kurt was a vamp? Hands up! :P**


	10. Chapter 10

**Sorry it took a while to get this chapter out; I've had the flu again. I swear, primary schools are like the breeding grounds for illness. I loved the reception last chapter got! Glad you liked my twist, ordinary vampire stories are done to death, so hopefully this works out. I have two possible endings to work towards so as we get towards the end I'll worry about that a little more. Not even close yet. I'm gonna guess it'll be a little shorter than No Place Like Home, but that could change.**

**Glad you're enjoying, thanks for the reviews! Please keep telling me what you like and don't like, only way I learn! :D **

I feel like skipping ahead to the next important plot point but I shouldn't. I should tell you how it felt to hold Kurt and have him hold me, and not be afraid, or nervous or self-conscious. His body was firm and his lips were soft, and his hair was silky. His denim jeans were rough, his cotton shirt was thin and his waistcoat jacket had wide lapels. He smelt like nothing I'd ever smelled before really. I've tried to describe Kurt's scent dozens of times since I've met him. I've failed miserably on each attempt. There's sweetness there, but it's also a little musty and I guess it just makes me feel safe; like Kurt is dependable and tangible and real.

That night I must have sat kissing Kurt for at least forty minutes. I ended up with a knee on either side of his lap, half hovering, half sitting on him, just kissing the hell out of him. It felt amazing. It was so freeing and game-changing. He was a good kisser, I've told you that, in fact it's something I quite like to brag about to a certain extent, but kissing Kurt was never about the skill he brought to the activity. I didn't feel like I was continuously trying to make him feel good. Probably that sounds selfish, but from my limited experiences up till that point, kissing had been something you were critiqued on and never really passionate to the point you could lose yourself in that perfect moment of oneness. I loved Kurt in that moment. I know, realistically of course, as I have told you, that I could not possibly have loved Kurt. I was infatuated by him, addicted, enthralled, obsessed with him, but I didn't actually love him for several more weeks or months. That's what I can tell myself logically.

But I loved him.

I loved the way he brushed his tongue with mine and wound his hands in my hair; I loved the way he sort of sighed for breath every so often, so reluctant to break apart for something as trivial as oxygen. I felt like I had found my whole world and the fact that he was only mine for a year… less than a year really, was bitterly unfair.

It made the making out much more poignant. Can making out be poignant? It sounds like horny teenagers rutting together with tongues lapping at each other's faces frantically, and yes there was an element of frantic enthusiasm to our kissing. But it was sweet and tender and heartbreaking and wonderful.

Whenever I look back on Kurt, I think I'll remember that night. That kiss.

That was one to file away to re-live some cold night when I'm lonely and missing him so much I can't breathe. Because that's what I'm preparing for. I know that the steps I'm taking now will hurt him; have hurt him already. But I can't.

Not even for him.

And he won't for me, so the impasse is impassable.

Anyway. I won't dwell. You should hear this story in order of course. You need to understand why I'm doing this. Otherwise I seem like a monster.

Irony.

When I dropped Kurt home I noticed Elizabeth through the curtains. She was curled up and watching television on Maxine's lap. Maxine stroked her hair softly and kissed the top of her head. Kurt watched me looking at them.

"I know Maxine sounds like a villain, Blaine," he said softly, "But she's my mom. She's Ellie's mom. She did what she had to to save a dying child and I'll never stop thanking her for saving my sister. She could have just walked away and left us there. But I wouldn't have Ellie."

I stroked his cheek softly, his beard was still soft, not coarse like mine; he hadn't been shaving long.

"I understand, Kurt," I told him honestly, "I really do."

I didn't want to frighten him away with talk of contingency plans and rescues. I would find some way to make sure Kurt was safe forever. Then we could be together and human for always.

Both of us.

* * *

><p>I had to attend school the next day. My mother wasn't going to believe I was sick again, and I wasn't really hiding from Kurt anymore. Just Maggie and my own guilt.<p>

I gave Kurt a lift to school. I was unsure how to tell him about the situation with Maggie. Technically I hadn't done anything wrong that he could get mad at me for, but I knew he'd be completely justified in being hurt and confused.

The whole situation was a mess.

"Kurt, after I left your house the other night… You know, after I saw the blood?" Kurt nodded with a small smile and I continued as I drove, "I went to Maggies house."

"You told her?" he panicked and I lifted my hands up from the wheel to reassure him.

"No."

He looked at me, and I swear I could almost see the comprehension slide onto his face.

"Oh."

Just that one little word made me feel crappier than I ever had in my life.

"Well, I guess it's not any of my business," Kurt said dully, "But are you going to break up with her?"

Kurt was so quietly spoken. He really had no confidence in himself and I had to keep reminding myself that he had never had a friend, let alone a boyfriend. He felt guilty that he was alive and his sister was dead, and he felt selfish for getting his year to be human.

"We aren't together, Kurt," I promised him, "It was a horrible mistake and I have never regretted anything more. I'll set her straight. We're just friends."

"You are gay, right?" Kurt questioned, his tone wavering.

"I'm gay," I said firmly, "Just not ready to tell my dad. I didn't know what to do, and I was scared and panicked and she was _there_. It meant nothing, and it kind of grossed me out actually."

I tried for a smile and Kurt copied it a little too late and not too convincingly.

"I understand," he told me.

And that was all he said on the subject.

"I love Lady Gaga," he said in a determined way as the song changed on the radio, as if he was forcing himself to change the topic.

I nodded, letting him know I wouldn't say any more about it.

"Listen to a lot of Gaga in your house, do you?" I grinned hollowly, desperate to make him smile.

He did, but it was a bitter one.

"More than you'd expect, Blaine," he said.

I stared at him and his smile became genuine and his lips thinned as they stretched over his teeth. He wouldn't meet my eye.

"_No_!" I said in shock, "No way!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt was grinning now.

"_Lady_ _Gaga_ is a vampire?" I demanded, unable to stop myself from grinning back at him.

"Is she?" Kurt asked me calmly with a grin, "Where'd you hear that?"

"Oh, this is going to bug me now," I laughed.

I pulled up in a spot in front of the school.

"Can't read my, Can't read my, Blaine can't read-a my poker face!" Kurt sang cheekily and I grabbed him around the neck with a laugh, quickly pressing my lips to his, loving the way he stopped squirming and kissed me back hungrily.

I pulled away from him too soon for my liking.

"People will see," I apologised and he puckered his mouth a little with a grin.

We stepped out of the car and began to walk into school together. I was careful to walk a little distance away from him, no matter how much I wanted to wrap my arm around his waist.

Maggie came running up and before I knew it she had wrapped her arms around my neck and she was kissing me.

I pushed her off and wiped my mouth, shooting a glance at Kurt guiltily. He turned his eyes away and kept walking. I groaned inwardly.

Maggie was smiling at me and I hate myself for not noticing the way her eyes were bright and excited and the way she was looking at me like I was her whole world.

"Maggie, the other night was a mistake, okay?" I told her, "I'm really sorry, and I don't want to lose you as a friend. I hope you can forgive me?" I told her.

Her beautiful smile faded away and she sort of nodded and tried not to appear too eager. Of course at the time all I noticed was her nodding and her reply of "Yeah, of course."

"Great," I smiled at her.

I hugged her then ran after Kurt.

I was a fucking asshole.

* * *

><p>In Music we sat next to each other like always. But the sensation of Kurt's aura or presence or whatever you want to call it, beside me was driving me crazy. I could feel my skin tingle as I brushed against him accidentally-on-purpose. He eventually shifted his seat a little further away from mine and breathed in a shaky sigh. I loved knowing that he was affected too.<p>

"Blaine?" Mr D called loudly, "You need to be paying attention now, boy-o!"

I laughed and plastered an apologetic look on my face as Mr D went on to discuss 4/4 time. I knew all this. I'd been addicted to music since I could remember, even if I hadn't been playing piano that long. Music was in my blood and I barely ever had to study in this class to get A's.

After class Kurt and I ditched lunch period and made our way to the little practice room where he had first told me his name.

"No kissing," he warned me, "The door has a glass panel."

"I want to risk it," I groaned and placed my hands on his hips.

"No, Blaine," Kurt said firmly and pushed me away. "It's better that we stay a secret. You're not out of the closet for one and for another it will save you the awkward questions when I disappear after my eighteenth."

I closed my eyes involuntarily, pained at the thought of that.

"I don't want to talk about that, Kurt," I told him roughly.

"Well, it doesn't do any good to pretend it's not going to happen, Blaine," Kurt smiled sadly, "Pretending only makes it worse."

"Well we don't have to pretend, I just don't want to discuss it in general conversation, okay?" I snapped.

I snapped at him.

I had the fucking good grace to at least raise a hand to my mouth and look shocked and apologetic. Sometimes I wonder about my responses. They come so instantaneously that I think they must be genetics or instinct. I don't think about the way I should behave in the moment and I rarely realise when I'm at risk of hurting someone else. Kurt was, _is_, so good and kind. He just smiled at me and nodded.

"It's okay to be angry about this," he told me, "Believe me, I've done my own raging."

I turned away from him and tried to hide my face. I knew right then that however hard it was for me, it must be a million times harder for Kurt.

"I know you have," I nodded, "I'm sorry, I'm being selfish."

"Don't be silly," Kurt smiled and leaned to sit down on one of the plastic school chairs that littered the small room, "You care about me. That's kind of nice, you know?"

I smiled at him. He really was just the most amazing person I'd ever met. I warned myself to stay calm. I wouldn't let him die, I wouldn't. Even if Maxine got into trouble again, they weren't going to have Kurt.

"Play me something?" he asked softly and I hated how far away he was. The distance between our bodies felt like the divide between being human and being vampire. I'd thought it would be so easy to date him because he was human. But it was always there. He might not be a vampire but he had a deadline to become one, and he was lumped in with them regardless.

"Sure," I nodded and sat down at the piano.

I played Lovesong by The Cure slowly and softly.

Eventually I sang a little.

"Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am whole again," I sang softly.

Kurt sniffled a little behind me.

"You're one too," he spoke hoarsely.

I stopped playing and turned to face him.

"What?" I asked.

"They… The vamps call it a _muse-ange_," he explained looking at his hands sadly, "It basically translates into musical angel, but I'm sure you can figure that out. Most vampires have an affinity with music, but a few humans are gifted before they are turned. It's special but not uncommon. I'm one. And so are you."

My heart beat wildly.

"What do you mean 'before they are turned'? I'm not going to be turned because of this, am I?" I demanded.

Kurt laughed seemingly despite himself.

"No, of course not, Blaine," he snorted, "I said it was special, not unique."

"So is Gaga special, or does she have a certain 'predisposition' to music?" I winked at him. He shook his head with a laugh. He wasn't telling. That was fine, I could deal with not knowing whether the world's top pop icon was a vampire or not.

"Tell me!" I pleaded.

"Blaine, not every musician in the world is a vampire," he relented.

"Oh my God," I breathed, "There's more than just Gaga, isn't there? Katy Perry? Teenage Dream is _way_ too catchy!"

Kurt was flat out grinning now, and I loved the way it made me feel to make him smile. I felt happier because he felt happier and it was a giddy sort of symbiotic relationship.

"What about Mr D?" I asked, "He's really good, is he a human _muse-ange_ thing?"

Kurt stiffened.

"Time for class," he said abruptly and leapt up, "Coming?"

"Wait," I called after him, "Is he?"

Kurt spun at the door and worried his lip with his teeth.

"I can't tell you about Mr D," he said, "I'm not allowed; he's not in my family."

I paled and stiffened in response.

"Kurt, can you nod yes or no if I ask you one thing?"

He nodded.

"Is Mr D a vampire?" I hissed softly.

Kurt nodded.

"Class?" he asked with a fake, bright smile and a false spring in his step.

I followed him in shock.

**All the awards to anyone who guessed Mr De Accord (means out of tune in French… hint hint? :P ) was a vamp :P**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi! Bet you'd forgotten about me! Sorry! I work at a primary school as an aide and things get hectic towards the end of the year, plus chrissy shopping! Haven't had enough time to write at all! Hopefully I should be able to write more over the next month or so with school holidays!**

**Exciting news! I got into Masters! I'll be studying Masters of Teaching (Primary) next year and I can't wait! It's going to be hard and time consuming, but I love the kids at school and knowing I'm making a difference in their lives and education, so being a proper teacher will be amazing : )**

**(Remind me of that next year when I'm crying about the stress of it all, wont you? :P )**

**This will most likely be the last update on this before next year; so please everyone have a safe holiday, enjoy celebrating time with family and friends, and don't eat TOO much junk! :P**

**ALSO! I changed my penname to ImaginedInsanity as you may have noticed! It's my Tumblr addy and my scarves and coffee penname and it made sense to match them all in! Sorry for the confusion! :D**

* * *

><p><em>Kurt was naked now. He was lying down on the little blue flowers, ripping them out with his fingers as his fists clenched around them spasmodically. I tried to peek but my head wouldn't turn that way for some reason. His face was still twisted in that same silent scream, but now I couldn't tell if it was agony or ecstasy that was making him pull the face. His normally perfectly coiffed hair was rumpled and his neck was covered in red marks. <em>

_Suddenly I could move._

_My head still wouldn't turn south, I tried desperately, but it just came sliding back to Kurt's neck._

"_Blaine? Please?" he pleaded with me, and I was very aware that he'd never spoken before. I made to lie next to him, amazed that the invisible rules let me do it. I stroked his chest and ran my hand over his stomach. I realised that I was naked too. I was sure I had been wearing clothes seconds before, but I tried not to question my subconscious. I had always woken up from dreams when my head realised that they didn't make any sense, and I needed to stay asleep and breathe in Kurt. _

_Kurt shuddered and groaned as I touched him._

"_Do it?" he pleaded with me._

_Then I nodded and kissed his neck._

_I moved my body over his, feeling him hard and perfect._

_And I sank my fangs into his neck, thrusting them into his veins and feeling his blood spurt into my mouth. _

_I felt him spasm and cry out and he came; hot and sticky against me._

_I groaned and suckled his neck like it was life. It tasted amazing; Kurt tasted amazing._

_He reached down and stroked me while I sucked out his life._

_I bit down harder as I came and Kurt screamed._

I woke up with an erection.

* * *

><p>Scott and I hadn't had much time to talk lately. I had been sort of preoccupied by the fact that my secret boyfriend's family were secret vampires. But I had promised to take him to the movies on Saturday.<p>

Could I help it if Kurt wanted to see that same movie at the same time?

Scott rolled his eyes at me when he saw Kurt there.

"Really, Blaine? So obvious."

"Want popcorn, you scamp?" I laughed loudly and ruffled his hair. He glared at me.

"You're using me to go on a date?" he demanded and looked at Kurt accusingly.

Kurt grinned a little as I struggled to find any excuse.

"Does it help if I brought you a date too, kiddo?" Kurt laughed, "We can double?"

Elizabeth emerged from the ladies bathrooms at that point, scowling.

"Ew," Scott muttered, "I _so_ don't want to go on a date!"

Elizabeth looked relieved. "That's what I said!" she exclaimed. I noticed that her voice was a tiny bit more childlike when she was around Scott. I guessed to remind herself that she had to act like a ten-year-old.

"We can just tease them then!" Scott grinned evilly and Elizabeth laughed.

"Deal!" she squealed.

She was good at the kid cover.

She'd had years of practice I guess.

"So what are we seeing then?" I asked with a groan.

"Oh, my God, we have to see Eclipse! Please?" Elizabeth grinned evilly at me, "I want to point out all the ridiculous inaccuracies, and…" she noticed Scott watching her strangely, "And Robert Pattinson is soooo cute!" she squealed, and shot a disdainful look at Kurt.

"There's werewolves in that, right?" Scott said with a tiny hint of interest. "I think the whole vampire thing is a bit gay – No offence," he added with a smirk, "But werewolves are cool!"

Elizabeth's face was priceless. Her jaw dropped and she gawked at him.

"Right, Kurt?" she demanded finally, "Give me your wallet, I have to educate this kid and unfortunately _fucking_ _Twilight_ is the only way I can!" Scott looked at me as Elizabeth swore, then to Kurt, waiting for either of us to reprimand her, but Kurt merely handed over his wallet and she marched towards the counter.

"Here, kiddo," I handed Scott some notes, "Wanna get our tickets too? And you can get any snacks you like, just nothing blue. If you hurl on the way home I don't want to clean that up."

Scott grinned and saluted me, running off after Elizabeth.

"She okay?" I asked Kurt quietly when Scott was out of earshot.

"Yeah, I hope so," Kurt said softly, risking touching my shoulder, pretending to brush something off. "She hasn't really spent a lot of time with people till this year. Me neither, I guess… But my 'year of being human' meant that she wanted one too, and I just think she's finding the age gap and all that kind of hard to deal with. It's easy to forget that she's older than me. She must be so lonely, Blaine." Kurt's eyes were huge and blue, full of hurt and compassion for his sister.

I nodded as Elizabeth stood on tiptoes to reach the counter.

It must be lonely.

But that wasn't a reason for Kurt to die.

* * *

><p>During the ads Scott whispered to me urgently about needing to go to the bathroom. I rolled my eyes and made to get up, but Kurt stopped me and said he'd take him.<p>

Leaving me with his sister.

Elizabeth waited until they had left the theatre then jumped their seats to talk to me.

"Listen, I like you," she hissed, "You make Kurt smile and that's not as easy as it sounds. You're good for him, and he deserves someone like you. But you _know_, Blaine. It can't work with Kurt. You can't save him, and he's not going to be around for you. You're being ridiculous;" she whispered urgently, "Kurt has a lot longer to dwell on his broken heart than you; so you need to end this now, before he gets hurt."

I studied her carefully.

I remember seeing her age behind her eyes then. She might have the body of a ten year old, but she was grown up and trapped. Her brows were furrowed in frustration and she looked so stubborn it was almost scary.

I found myself staring at her teeth. They didn't look unnatural. A little large perhaps, but so many children's teeth did at that age. I wondered if she had drunk some of Kurt's blood before they came. I wondered how she could stand to be so close to people all the time.

I wondered how she could claim I would hurt her brother, when he was going to give up his life in her name in a year.

"Elizabeth," I began slowly, feeling the name on my lips twist oddly.

"You can call me Ellie, Blaine," she said softly, "I'm not a monster. Well, I am but I don't hate you."

"Ellie," I began again, "I really, really care about Kurt. I don't want to hurt him. Please know that. But I don't want him to die either. I guess you don't want that for him, and I know you can't change it, but I want to find some way to save him."

I probably was foolish then, telling her my intentions, but as I saw her face soften, I knew I'd done the right thing.

"I'm sorry for what happened to you, Ellie," I told her honestly and I felt her shift in the seat next to mine uncomfortably, "But that doesn't mean Kurt has to go through this. He has a chance to be happy with me and if there's any way I can keep him, for a year, for two years, forever, I'll take it."

Ellie sighed and smiled.

"I see why he loves you," she turned her face to the screen for a moment and I noticed her eyes glistening.

"He- what?" I stumbled over my words and she giggled, suddenly ten years old again.

"What are you two chatting about?" Kurt said softly as he and Scott edged back to their seats. Ellie scrambled back to her own and grinned at Kurt, swinging her legs on the seat.

"Blaine and Ku-urt, sitting in a tree," she hummed and winked at me ridiculously.

"Shhh!" someone from behind hissed and Ellie fell silent. Kurt looked at me curiously and I was glad for the dark, that he couldn't see the heat in my face.

We held hands in the dark.

* * *

><p>"I had a dream about you," I told Kurt that night on the phone.<p>

"Oh, really?" he flirted, "Nice dream, was it?"

His voice was like sex. I almost whined at the silky purr he'd adopted.

"Interesting," I managed.

"What was I wearing?" he asked.

To this day I don't know if he was innocently interested in my subconscious fashion sense, or whether he had me pegged as a pervert. Probably the latter. Kurt has always known me better than I know myself.

"Um," I said dryly and he laughed at that.

"Mr Anderson, I'm shocked," he said in a flirty tone, "I'd never pegged you for the masturbatory fantasy type. Or the type to try to initiate phone sex for another thing!"

I was speechless.

"I-didn't – I wasn't…" I stammered and he giggled.

"Blaine, it's okay," he said gently, "I have dreams about you too."

_Bet you they aren't like mine_, I told him in my head.

**Sorry, I know its short, I've been trying to work on getting Summer Lovin' back up and updated as well (Now that Glee seems to be copying me... Weird! ) If you feel like catching up on that, it should be up soon!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I'm not going to apologise AGAIN for not updating sooner because it seems like that's all I ever do! But I do have some points. I've been a bit in a rut with this story, only because I know exactly where we're going (And trust me, its cool!) but I had no idea of how to get there… I also got a very kind review telling me that the point of view wasn't their cup of tea. And I was sort of dwelling on that last chapter. I'll say to you what I said to them! **

**I know that the point of view in the story is controversial. I knew that from the beginning that it wouldn't sit well with some people. The trouble is that I want to play with that. I want to see how uncomfortable and confused I can make the audience, and by using that voice it does that well I think. I know it can feel like 'me' poking through, but it's Blaine. Blaine is telling the story after he's made a decision, and it's a tough one. Making it clear why he's done it and never painting him as innocent in his own mind was something I was really interested with playing with. And really, what is fanfiction for but playing and becoming a better writer? :P**

**Thanks for letting me know that it doesn't sit well with you, I will take that into account, but I'm really hoping for a story that once you know the ending, you can re-read and understand Blaine's narrative interruptions :P**

**Anyway, not to sound preachy, but that was my reasoning. And I want to explore all that a little further. So here is a bit of a different chapter… I don't know who to feel sorriest for to be honest! Let me know what you think? It's a bit sad, this one!**

* * *

><p>I didn't exactly keep a diary of my life at that time, even though, looking back on it now, it would have been a sensible move. I could have had a record that Kurt was real and tangible, and it would have been a record of us falling in love. Not to mention it would have made for terrific blackmail. Anyway, I never kept a diary, and events and feelings get all muddled up in the passing of time, so (as you may have noticed already) I am simply telling you this story in the best way I know how. And up till now, that has been linear. That's not to say that it is always truthful I suppose. It's an account of <em>my<em> feelings. And feelings are never straightforward, and very rarely factual. But as I've told you on several occasions now, I was always known for being truthful. So you should be able to trust my judgement.

I only ever lie for Kurt.

Moving ahead.

Here is a moment that is much more recent to me. It's been playing on my thoughts, and I find myself drawn to telling you this story. You shouldn't jump to conclusions. No one should ever do that. I am going to tell you about the night that I gave Kurt that ultimatum. The one that has me choosing to get on a bus, or go home. The one that has me breaking his heart, or breaking mine.

I can't get into this as emotionally or remember it as fondly as my memories till now, I'm afraid. This is the events of last night for me, and the only reason I'm breaking my timeline, is so that you might have some idea of the hell I am in when I tell you the stories of Kurt and I falling in love so spectacularly, then having it come to this.

You probably think I'm whinging.

I'm not.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, you need to let them turn you," I pleaded with him, running my hands over his face, the plan careful and calculated in my mind.<p>

Kurt took a step away from me in horror.

"Blaine, you don't know what you're saying. Are you drunk?" he asked me hesitantly.

We'd had a bottle of wine that I had snuck from my father's cellar with our picnic dinner.

My dad didn't scare me anymore. Not in the state he was in nowadays. He didn't even realise that I was alive. I wondered if it was because I was gay, or whether all families go through a similar thing in those circumstances.

"I _need_ to be one, Kurt," I told him, and I'm sure I couldn't quite keep the panic and the desperation from my voice. "I need _you_ to turn me. We can be together forever then, don't you see?"

Kurt was cluey. Kurt was always cluey.

"I'm not the first person you've asked to do this, am I?" he said quietly; resignation heavy in his tone, and I felt like I was winning.

"I asked Ellie and she wouldn't because she's already in enough trouble as it is. She said it would have to be life-threatening for her to change me. I could ask Maxine or Mr D, but I want it to be _you_, baby. I want you to be the one _drinking_ me and sucking away my life, then making me yours for eternity. _Eternity_, Kurt! _Why_ were we fighting so hard to save you for _one_ lifetime when we could have each other for _centuries_?"

Kurt flinched at that.

"Because I want to be human with you, Blaine. I don't want to be a monster, especially not a monster with babysitting duty. I want to go to Paris and Amsterdam, and enjoy life as it was given to me. Not death as it was cursed upon me. I don't want to be tired of life and wish I could die, Blaine. I want humanity in all its flaws, and there's no reason for you to be talking like this. You need to learn to think before you speak. You can be such a little boy. You're being impetuous and irrational. You know why I want to be human, Blaine. Hell, you've spent all year trying to convince me to go along with your crazy plan. And it worked, Blaine! I'm free! I'll be able to leave and marry you and see the world and _bleed_! Why are you doing this to me?"

I shouldn't have said what I said next.

"All that shit doesn't matter now!" I practically screamed at him, "I need to be a vampire, Kurt, and I need you to turn me and we'll all live together, just the four of us. And we can see the world, or re-enroll in high school like Robert Pattinson. I don't care what the fuck our lives are, I just need you and me forever. I can't deal with this, Kurt. It'll kill me anyway. It was my fault!"

Kurt sank to his knees in front of me on the picnic blanket.

He grasped my face in his hands and held my face firmly.

"It is not your fault. You couldn't have stopped that. And Ellie shouldn't have done what she did, Blaine. But it'll be fine." He was in tears now. My beautiful, strong Kurt was in tears and it was my fault.

"I'll ask Maxine."

The cold words escaped my lips without my even stopping to consider them, and there was a simple, forceful, truthfulness to them.

Kurt's hands left my face like it had burned him.

"You would leave me?" he asked. But I knew he wasn't really asking. He was reminding me that he was staying human.

"Yes."

Kurt nodded shakily.

"Good to know," he said bitterly.

"I want you to be turned too, Kurt," I pleaded with him, "I don't want to live without you, but I can't not do this."

Kurt regarded me slowly, like he'd never seen me before.

"Who are you?" he whispered, "I don't know you anymore. Not since the accident."

"I'm Blaine!" I'd laughed at that as it had struck me as funny, and I'd flung my arms out in sort of a bow. "Sorry if I don't quite live up to your expectations! Been saying sorry for being myself all my life, why shouldn't I say it to you?" I was still laughing and Kurt was looking at me like I had gone insane. I probably had.

"What will you eat?" he asked me suddenly, and his question seemed throw-away, but there was just enough of a tinge of desperation to it that I could tell this was his final argument to convince me to stay human.

"Animals, and we'll get in touch with the blood bank when we find a new place. I'm not planning on killing anybody, Kurt."

"Animals?" Kurt scoffed. Ellie had discovered several months ago, that for all its ridiculousness, Twilight had got one thing right. The blood of animals didn't taste as good, and didn't keep her strong, but she could survive on them. The blood bank had been Mr D's set up. Vampires have their own international branch, and they can just get blood delivered like it's a pizza. Kurt was no longer getting drained a couple of times a week, and the scar on his neck had sort of faded to a shimmery pale patch of stretched skin.

"I'll make do."

I was being stubborn, trying to force him into wanting it; force him into wanting me.

"Maxine won't turn you," he told me coldly, "I'll ask her not to."

And just like that, the board was set. Kurt slid his piece into place and screamed "_Check_" triumphantly with his eyes.

"Mr D is in San Francisco finding a new house for them," I told him, unable to look him in the eyes right then. "I'll get on a bus tomorrow."

Kurt let the tears stream down his face then. Mr D had asked me before if I wanted to be turned. He'd do it.

I let my gaze fall to Kurt's broken face.

"_Checkmate_"

I moved to hold Kurt then. I've never been able to stand seeing him upset.

"Get off me!" he screamed wildly as my arms began to wind around his body. "I loved you! And you don't care about me!"

"Kurt, that's selfish," I told him kindly and he sobbed bitterly, "You know that I love you, I just need to do this."

"Maxine and Mr D will take care of…"

"-No!" I yelled back at him, "It's my responsibility, just like Ellie is yours! I can't believe you're just going to let her go and never see her again!"

If you substitute 'me' in that last sentence for 'her', then you've got a really good idea of what I wanted to scream at him.

"I love you," Kurt cried. "But I can't be this for you, and if you're really going to do this, you need to leave me now and let me hate you. Please?" Kurt was shaking with sobs wracking his body.

I kissed him, and he didn't pull away. After several moments he kissed me back as beautifully as he knew how, as if he could convince me to stay with one kiss.

He almost did.

"I will love you, forever. Till the day I die, Kurt," I cried too as I broke away from him.

"Don't say that," Kurt stood up, unsteadily, "You're dying tomorrow, remember?"

And he backed away from me slowly.

"Don't do this?" he mouthed silently, shaking his head, still disbelieving.

"I have to," I said a little too loudly.

"Goodbye, then."

And Kurt turned, and walked away. He left me crying into a picnic blanket.

There are some things I said that I'm not proud of. Things that I know hurt him.

But I have to do this.

It doesn't matter anymore if I love Kurt. Even though it does, it matters more than anything, and my heart is literally breaking at the thought of never seeing him again.

But I have to do this.

I can't leave Scott alone with strangers forever.

**I totally cried writing this :(**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hi again! Not sure if anyone is still reading this, but I'm still writing! :P I know the last chapter was a little different, I thought that was explained, but some people were a bit confused! The last chapter was a flash forward to present day. We're back to the past again now :P**

**Please, please, please review! I hate begging for them, but we're really close to 100 and I write with so much more motivation once I hear how people like a chapter :)**

**Also, if this story is a bit angsty for you, my other WIP Summer Lovin' is very fluffy and fun, if that's more your thing :)**

**Either way, thankyou for reading! Let me know if you're enjoying it though, would you? I had a whole chapter with no reviews and it was a bit disheartening :(**

**Ok, back to Blaine…**

* * *

><p>So that's where my mind is. My heart is broken and dwelling on Kurt and whether I've made the right decision. But there's so much that you need to know before you'll truly understand the decision I've made. That little glimpse was just to remind you. There's not a happy end coming for Kurt and me. No matter how happy and in love we were, last night happened, and now he hates me.<p>

I should tell you about the time we first said "I love you" to each other. Well really, I said it first. We had been dating for about two months.

Kurt was in the habit of skipping Geometry to head to the practice music room, and I often skipped as well, just to spend extra time with him. He always seemed a little uncomfortable when I skipped to be with him, like he didn't want to be a bad influence, or have someone realise why we skipped periods together.

This particular day, I asked him if he minded me coming to hear him play. He asked me not to come anymore and I asked him why. We had been talking on the phone constantly, and had used Ellie's cover with Scott to get play dates together several more times.

"Because you shouldn't be wasting your life with me when I'm not going to be around in nine months," Kurt said hollowly, and played a few bars of _Memory_ from _Cats_. "I feel guilty. I'm using up your humanity; your senior year; your first love, just so that I get to have those experiences."

I sat next to Kurt on the piano stool, facing away from the instrument.

"I chose you," I told him fiercely, taking his pale face in my hands, careful to avoid the scar on his neck, that I had long since realised gave him more pain and worry than he let on. "I want to be with you, even if nine months is all we get," I told him, "And I want to experience everything with you. I want to be able to tell my grandchildren about how I fell in love with you."

I nuzzled against his cheek then, eager for a kiss, but unhopeful – Kurt didn't allow kissing at school in case we got caught and I was outed.

Kurt smiled at me shyly. I'll never forget the way his mouth turned up at the corners, almost self-mockingly, and disbelieving, but immensely happy.

"You fell in love with me?" he whispered, as if afraid to speak loudly in case he scared me away.

"Oh, Kurt, I love you," I assured him, "As long as my heart is beating and you're still walking this earth, I think I will love you." I was unable to stop the tears from forming in my eyes. I chose my words carefully, knowing that I was telling him that I was going to love him even when he wasn't human anymore. It was so painful to think of Kurt in pain, then cold and bloodthirsty. I knew in my heart that he would still be the same person. Ellie wasn't evil. She wasn't particularly pleasant all the time, but I forgave her because of her situation.

Kurt broke down in tears then and I hurried to wrap my arms around his sobbing form. Wracking sobs were escaping him, and he sounded devastated.

"I didn't mean to – shhh, Kurt, honey – I didn't mean to upset you," I rubbed his back and pulled him to my chest, feeling his tears permeate the fabric of my shirt.

"I love you too," Kurt wailed brokenly, "But I don't want to say it because it's going to be hell when I have to leave you," he cried.

I laughed gently at him, "Kurt, you just _did_ say it," I pointed out.

"Fuck," he swore, gripping onto me breathlessly.

"It made me happy," I told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Hey, come sit with me?" I pulled him up and led him towards the door, but instead of walking through it, I sank to the floor and leant against it, pulling Kurt down to sit half-astride my lap. Then anybody who walked past wouldn't see us.

I tilted Kurt's chin down to look at him properly.

"You're right," I said firmly, "I _am_ using up my first love on you. So make it _amazing_, Kurt. We don't have to think about the future right now. Just enjoy being in love and human."

I kissed him desperately then, and he not only let me, but returned it just as fiercely. Kurt was the most passionate kisser. He would wind his tongue with mine and stroke, letting his fingers trace through my hair softly.

I can still feel that.

"Blaine?" he asked softly after we broke apart, "I want to do this properly," he grinned in an embarrassed way. "I love you."

I wound my hands round his waist with a grin, "I love you too."

* * *

><p>I would never get tired of saying that to Kurt, or hearing him say it. Even when I found myself alone; doing something utterly unremarkable, a grin would pass over my face and I would mutter those words softly, "<em>I love you<em>." And then I'd go back to what I was doing. It became an unconscious quirk of mine that I barely noticed.

After that confession of love it became hard to keep our hands apart, our eyes unwatching and our smiles hidden. All I thought about was Kurt. He became like a beacon for me. If he was nearby I was safe and so happy I was giddy. Take him away and I barely knew myself.

Maggie was becoming a nuisance.

I don't fancy myself kind-hearted for the way I treated her, but she'd become so clingy that I lost almost all sympathy I had for her. Kurt was my best friend now. And I didn't need her. It sounds selfish, but I am selfish. It's something about me that I have always known. I care about others, but I mostly want things for myself. Maybe that's why my plan to hold onto Kurt was so desperately selfish that it worked. I don't know. All I know is, that Maggie was texting me constantly. Messages full of hearts and flowery language would appear in my inbox daily. She insisted on sitting next to me at lunch now, considerably cramping my conversations with Kurt. And worse, she seemed to be getting jealous of Kurt.

But the worst was that I overlooked it. I shrugged it off with a laugh then kissed Kurt softly when we were out of the school grounds, reassuring him how much I loved him and how little I cared for her.

Of course it was leading to a head. I was just too blinded by my love for Kurt to realise it.

About a week after I told Kurt I loved him for the first time, it happened. Kurt and I ran through the school laughing, eager to get out of there and kiss each other till our lips were bruised and swollen. I couldn't get enough of Kurt.

And so, on this particular day, Kurt and I got into my car, which happened to be parked in a less obvious spot than usual, and I took his face in my hands and kissed him hard. I was breathless from running, then I was breathless from Kurt and the whole car seemed charged with electricity that we were supplying.

Kurt whimpered and moaned a little, and his hand flew up to his window to brace himself against the onslaught of my lips.

Finally I couldn't breathe, and pulled away from him reluctantly. It was a sexual tension unlike anything we'd experienced to that point. I was aware of being sexually attracted to Kurt and wanting to act on it, and it was slightly thrilling to feel the tingly arousal in my stomach and groin as I stared into his widened pupils. I kissed him again quickly, grinning widely.

When I pulled away, Kurt's grin was huge too.

Then his face fell in horror. I turned and probably paled myself.

Maggie was standing outside my door staring in at me at confusion and hurt.

I've done a lot of crappy things, but really, this was the one thing I think was the worst I've ever done. I hurt Maggie.

I leapt from the car and opened my mouth to apologise.

"Maggie…"

She held up a hand, stilling my words.

"Blaine, what's going on?" Maggie had a sick smile plastered on her face like the wind had changed and frozen her face in that mockery of happiness.

"Maggie, I never meant to hurt you," I told her honestly, "Can you come and sit in the car with me and Kurt and let me explain, please?"

Maggie's eyes flew to Kurt.

"This is sick," she said and shook her head, "You're just confused, Blaine."

"I'm not confused, honey," I told her and tried to move to stroke her hair but she pulled away from me.

"_Well then why did you fuck me_?" she screamed, and suddenly all eyes were on us.

"Maggie, no!" I pleaded, "Please just let's go somewhere and talk about this quietly, please, honey?"

"Don't call me that!" she spat.

I felt the tears before I even recognised I was crying. Kurt got out of the car behind me.

"Let him explain," he said to her softly, "He's your best friend, this is killing him, just go somewhere and talk."

"Shut up, fag!" she snarled, and that's when I stopped caring about her.

I guess I probably started this story at the wrong place for you to have any sympathy for Maggie. She was a really lovely girl. She was kind and polite and happy and funny. She made me smile. She was my friend and I didn't have a lot of those, so I valued her. But she was from Ohio and there just wasn't any out gay people. I'm sure that's an exaggeration, but at our school there wasn't. It was something she had been told was wrong and disgusting, and now she was hurt and all that hate came flying out of her mouth even if she didn't think it.

But I think that right then she did think it.

"Maggie, I'm gay," I told her firmly, if quietly. I knew it was out. I knew she would tell, but the less people who heard me come out the better. I glanced at Kurt who nodded and came to stand beside me. He didn't hold my hand, but I could tell he wanted to from the way his hand twitched towards mine then dropped to his side restlessly. "And Kurt's my boyfriend. I don't know how to make this better for you, and I'm sorry that you think I'm disgusting. I never meant to hurt you and that's the truth." And then I walked away, afraid that if I stayed I would cry, and being a gay cry-baby was never going to fly.

Kurt followed me and jumped in the car beside me. He held my hand with a strong grip, and I blinked back tears.

"I'll tell!" Maggie hissed at me through the window, "If you humiliate me like this, I'll tell everyone that you're a _faggot_!"

I laughed humourlessly.

"Go ahead, Maggie," I sighed, "You were a lousy _fuck_ anyway."

Okay, maybe that was uncalled for.

I drove away with her screaming "_Faggot_!" at the top of her lungs, and Kurt hushing me and stroking my hair as tears streamed down my face. I don't know how I got to Kurt's house, but I managed it.

I sobbed in the car as he held me, romance, passion, sexiness forgotten and love and caring remaining.

When I finally calmed down enough to be rational, I yanked myself out of Kurt's grasp like a snake had bitten me. I stared at him in utter and total fear.

"She'll tell my _dad_," I told him.

***Revieeeewwww* Who said that!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Okay so if people are still reading this story, it might get a bit slow on the update front for a while… I now have three WIP's (Count 'em, three!) as well as full time work and a fulltime master's degree in teaching… I LOVE writing, and I won't abandon stories, but bear with me as I get inundated with things to do :P**

**Anyhow… This is an interesting chapter… We get to see Blaine's mom and Mr D in some interesting ways… I hope you like it… AND PLEEEEEASE review :D I get really happy when I get a review on this story :D**

That night, sitting around my dinner table had never felt so terrifying. It said a lot about my relationship with my dad that I felt more comfortable at _Kurt's_ house, where there were two _vampires_, than in the same room with my father.

He didn't know.

It was painfully clear, about fifteen minutes into the conversation, when he started railing in on whether I'd decided to grow some balls and get a girlfriend yet. Even he wasn't that good at ignoring the obvious.

But my mother looked devastated.

I got through dinner, barely tasting my food. Scott ran off to call Elizabeth about homework, and my father disappeared promptly, leaving my mother to the dishes, like he always did, adding a good natured slap to her behind.

He was too jovial to have any clue.

I helped my mother clear the table in silence and dried the dishes as she washed.

"Maggie rang this afternoon, Blaine," she said tersely and the slippery plate fell from my grasp to shatter on the floor.

"Oh, my god!" I knelt to pick up shards of ceramic from the tiles, "Sorry, Mom. It slipped…"

"-Blaine," she interrupted me with a rushed tone, and looked down into my eyes completely ignoring the broken plate, "Is she telling the truth?"

I tried to avoid the question as I picked up the largest pieces of the shattered plate that I could see. My mother sank to the floor in front of me, gingerly testing her weight, cautious of the sharp sharps all around us.

"Blaine?" she said softly and reached out a hand to run her fingers through my hair, "Are you… you and Kurt… are you… Blaine?"

She was trying so hard. I remember this overwhelming sense that I was disappointing her. She deserved so much more than my father, and it wasn't fair that she should have to put up with me too. I honestly loved her. Love her. She was… is sweet and kind and so earnest in trying to please people that she sacrificed herself more often than not. But she was terrified.

I guess we were similar.

I couldn't answer her. I couldn't look her in the eye and tell her that I was a _fag_. I couldn't break her heart.

So I just nodded and looked at the floor and let my tears fall alongside the shards.

There was a silence for several minutes. Several long, long minutes, in which my tears fell and my sobs became noise.

I was shaking.

"I'm _sorry_, Mom!" I sobbed eventually, "I'm so, _so_ sorry!"

She grabbed my chin gently then and forced me to look at her. She was crying too, but she looked more scared than angry.

"Don't you ever apologise to me for who you are," she said fiercely in a completely foreign tone, "Not to me."

She pulled me up and led me by the hand to the living room. I followed her without conscious thought. I would have done anything she told me to right then. I sank onto the couch beside her, unable to stop crying. It was like a floodgate had opened and all the tears that I had never shed wanted to pour down my face and be acknowledged.

"I knew, Blaine," she said eventually; hollowly.

I barely heard her over the sound of my sobbing, but I raised my head to look at her.

She actually smiled at me.

"Oh, please," she said warmly, "Why else would I invite Mrs Hummel to dinner, Blaine? I've known since you were about six and you told me you wanted to marry Leonardo DiCaprio. Do you remember that?"

I shook my head wordlessly, mouth open.

"You were such a dear little boy, Blaine. And I love you. I hate what I told you that day, but I was just so scared of what he'd do. So I told you that boys who married boys were wrong. Freaks. I used the word 'freaks', Blaine."

She was crying now too.

"But he couldn't find out. I would have done anything to protect you, Blaine, but I couldn't stop him if he really wanted to hurt you. So I had to act like it was wrong, honey. You understand? And you're not wrong. You're perfect, Blaine. You're so smart and kind and beautiful and _profound_ sometimes that I can hardly believe that I created you. I can hardly believe _he_ created you."

She pulled me towards her and hugged me tightly to her breast. I snuggled my head into her neck and just _breathed_ in the comfort and familiarity.

"We need to be careful, Blaine," she whispered and I could feel the tremors of fear wracking her body. "He can't know."

"Maggie will do anything to hurt me right now," I spoke hoarsely, "He'll find out."

"She's your best friend, Blaine," My mother implored then, "Why wou… oh."

"I didn't mean to hurt her," I told her earnestly, "I promise I didn't know how she felt."

"Oh, of course you didn't, baby," she shushed me and stoked my hair. "Well that complicates things."

"I love Kurt," I told her suddenly and she smiled slightly.

"I know you do," she said, "And he loves you too. Who can blame him?"

"What do I do?" I asked her, desperate for help.

"Keep it hidden as long as we can, okay? If things get messy here you can go to Kurt's until he settles down and we'll work out something. But for now, we'll just try to keep him in the dark."

It was a plan.

Barely.

* * *

><p>The next day at school was hard. I had never been a jock, but I'd never been out of favour with those who were either. I was a music student, so I had earned a certain amount of leeway in my behaviour because music was kind of cool. I couldn't exactly break into song anywhere, but playing an instrument and performing at assemblies wasn't a reason to be bullied, rather admired a little. I was alright at football, just had never made the team because of my build. And they would never let me on the basketball team because of my height. But the guys had always been apologetic when they had turned me down. I hadn't tried out for anything in a few years, but it must have stuck with them because it was the first slander I had yelled at me as I walked through the courtyard that morning.<p>

"Hey it's _Faggot_ Anderson!"

"Remember when he wanted to be on the team? Trying to peek at our junk, _faggot_?"

"Wanted a chance to see all the guys hot and sweaty and tackle them did you?"

Then there were the simpler ones.

"_Cocksucker_."

"_Freak_."

"_Faggot_."

"_Cumslut_."

I never made it to first period. Instead I ditched to the rehearsal room. Kurt was already there. We'd decided that I shouldn't drive him to school that day because people would see us arrive together and have more ammunition.

It had been a smart move, but I missed him more than I'd thought possible and I just fell into his arms when I saw him there.

"I love you," I told him dryly with a sarcastic laugh at myself.

"I love you," he told me emphatically, holding my face in his hands, "Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"My mom knows. Well, she already knew. But she knows about _us_," I told him with a tiny smile. Upset as I was I still couldn't hide the thrill of happiness that went through me when I talked about Kurt.

"She knew?" Kurt questioned with a strange look in his eyes.

"Apparently I harboured love for Leonardo DiCaprio as an impressionable six-year-old," I smiled and sank to the floor against the door, dragging Kurt with me and kissing him madly when his face reached mine. "What can I say?" I grinned, "I have a type."

Kurt shook his head in wonder, stroking my cheek, "How can you be happy right now?"

"Because I love you," I said simply and cocked my head in confusion, "And you love me. And that's amazing."

"Blaine," Kurt swallowed, "I do love you, but what's going to happen when I'm gone? How will you handle this? You can't deal with this by yourself and your mom isn't strong enough to be the support you need…"

"-Hey!" I felt unfounded protectiveness rise inside me.

"Blaine, it's true!" Kurt said softly, "She's known since you were six and she's never made things easier on you or stood up to your dad. I know you love her, but she can't do anything to help you when it comes to this. Oh, God, Blaine! What if he hurts you?"

Kurt clung to me desperately, and I was reminded by the tremors of fear I could feel running through him of my mother. Kurt was right though. Her fear was for herself. Kurt's was for me.

"You can't leave me," I pleaded with him, feeling the tears begin again abruptly. "I can't never see you again, Kurt!"

Kurt went stiff. I could feel his breathing coming in shudders as if he was trying to stem his own tears.

"Blaine," he choked out, "You _knew_. You _knew_ that I can't stay…"

"We'll come up with a way," I promised him, shaking my head furiously, "I'm not going to lose you, Kurt. I'm going to save you. We'll find a loophole, Kurt. We'll save you, okay?"

Kurt didn't even try to hide his tears then, he just kissed me hard and salty and murmured, "We'll try, Blaine," against my lips.

* * *

><p>I hung out in the rehearsal room all day. I eventually convinced Kurt to go to his lessons so they wouldn't realise he was with me. Somehow most people hadn't put two and two together about Kurt and me yet, and I wanted to keep him safe and normal for as long as I could. He snuck me food at break and kissed me hungrily like I was <em>his<em> food.

"Don't come out," he muttered furiously, "I don't want you to hear it. I feel like punching them all in the face. I'm _this_ _close_ to getting Ellie down here for a _buffet_ on some of these guys!" Kurt held up his forefinger and thumb about a quarter of an inch apart. I laughed at that. I knew she was deadly but the thought of calling in a ten-year-old girl to fight a team of footballers seemed hilarious.

"No one's said anything to you?" I held his gaze as I spoke, making sure he knew what I meant.

He bit his lip.

"There have been a few names thrown around," he admitted, "But I'm staying in public areas and they'll soon get tired of it."

Kurt had never spent time around people before. It wasn't always as painfully clear as it was right this minute.

"Kurt, don't _ever_ let them see you're upset or angry," I instructed, "They feed on that like leech- well… like _vampires_," I smiled shortly and continued. "They won't let up, Kurt. Maybe we should stay apart for a while… I don't want you getting hurt."

"And I don't want _you_ getting hurt," Kurt insisted, "I've got an escape clause, Blaine; you don't okay? I'll be fine."

The bell rang and Kurt stood up again, pressing a kiss to my nose adorably.

I played piano for a few minutes before I heard the door open behind me.

"Kurt, I told you not to ditch!" I scolded, "It's bad enough without them catching us together!"

"It's not Kurt, Blaine," a familiar voice called and I stopped playing abruptly.

"Mr D?" I spun around on the stool, "Sorry, I've just been having a bad day…"

"I heard," he said quietly and sat on one of the plastic chairs next to the piano. "Do you want to talk about it?" He smiled a reassuring smile full of gleaming teeth and it hit me fully that he was a vampire. I shrunk away from him before I had time to even process.

"Oh," he said simply, his smile becoming a concerned frown, "You know."

"Know what?" I laughed uneasily, "I don't know anything!"

"Blaine it's okay," he said, in a tone that could only be called gentle, "I'm still the same person. A teacher. I won't touch you, I promise."

I nodded shakily and tried to relax. If I slowed my heartbeat maybe I would seem so much like food.

"Kurt told you?" he asked softly.

"No!" I denied furiously, desperate to keep Kurt from trouble.

"I'm not angry at him," he explained, "Just making sure I didn't slip up somehow and do something obvious."

I considered that. It seemed fair. And there was no way Maxine or Ellie would let him touch Kurt.

"You didn't slip up," I conceded.

He nodded in relief.

"So you're hiding from the football team?" he asked finally with a sad smile.

I nodded silently.

"Because you're gay?" he asked as if to make sure he understood the situation.

Another nod.

"Why now?" he asked curiously, "I mean, you've never been particularly straight, Blaine. No offence."

I stared at him. Had everyone known?

"How did you…?"

"I was friends with Oscar Wilde," Mr D grinned, "He had the most amazing gaydar you've ever seen. Of course that wasn't a term then. He'd probably have liked it though."

My head reeled with the information.

I had never once thought about vampires being eternal as in being old. But Mr D was over one-hundred years old if he was telling the truth. Imagine seeing all that change!

Mr D laughed at my expression.

"1843," he said simply.

"Pardon?" I asked breathlessly.

"When I was born," he smiled again, "I know you're curious. 1843."

"Oh," I said and struggled hard to keep my face nonchalant, "Cool."

Mr D laughed then. Loudly.

"Blaine, you don't need to be hiding in here," he said eventually, "Don't you think that I would keep an eye on you and protect you if something happened?" My eyes widened, "Wouldn't all the teachers?" he corrected.

"I guess," I hedged.

"Does your dad know?" Mr D asked. He had met my father for teacher interviews before and had flat out asked Mr D if he could make sure that all "that music crap wouldn't turn [me] into a faggot". Mr D had asked him to watch his language at the time, giving me a sympathetic look I hadn't really understood.

I shook my head.

"Mom does."

He nodded curtly.

"And you and Kurt?" he asked curiously.

I nodded.

"I figured as much," he smiled sadly and paused. "Blaine… you do _know_… about Kurt… don't you?"

"Yeah," I said firmly, "He told me. But I'm going to save him."

"Oh?" Mr D looked curiously at me, "How?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet."

He laughed again and shook his head.

"Well you could always… no…" he spoke softly to himself more than anything.

"What?" I demanded eagerly.

"No, I shouldn't have said anything, Blaine," he apologised.

"Tell me!" I insisted.

There must have been something in my eyes that made him tell me. Some strange fire that told him I would stop at nothing.

"Well, it's kind of simple;" he said gently, "Kurt has until his eighteenth. Be turned yourself. I'll do it for you if you like. It's the easiest way. And you'll be together forever."

I shied away from him again.

"No!" I denied furiously, "Kurt's staying human!"

That thought disgusted me then.

What I wouldn't give for it now…

**The trailer for Struck By Lightning came out while I was writing this… AHHHH IT'S SO GOOD! CHRIS, YOU BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL THING!**

**Oh, and… er… review please :P**


End file.
